


Tulip Boys

by ByelerBylers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Lumax, Mike and Eleven strongly dislike each other at first, Mileven, Romance, but that changes, has a much needed nancy and eleven friendship, inspired by hana yori dango
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14080938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByelerBylers/pseuds/ByelerBylers
Summary: Eleven moves to Indiana and starts off her first day of school as a Sophomore in Hawkins High. Her nerves are rattled when four boys step into her uneventful life and create a ruckus. She befriends three of them after a few misunderstandings. Mike Wheeler, she can't stand.





	1. Whoops, Clumsy Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Mileven fanfic! (and serious one on this account).
> 
> I hope this first chapter starts it off well enough. Comment if you can; I'd love some thoughts on this fic.

Eleven’s bright brown eyes peered through the closed windows of an SUV. She was rather enthralled at the sight ahead of her, her lips parted and her eyes wide.

There it was. Hawkins High.

Halfway into September, today was her official first day after the move. The girl faced the man who had driven her; he was Jim Hopper, her adoptive father. He had taken her under his care at a very young age; it wasn’t until a few months ago that they were aware of their move to Hawkins. Hopper was relocated as a Police Chief all the way from Lincoln, Nebraska to Hawkins, Indiana and that was that.

Hawkins High did look like any ordinary high school, but the kicker was that Eleven was homeschooled in prior years. It was rather a shock to her that she was going to attend an actual school, with a myriad of teachers and with other students her age – it wasn’t until they moved that Hopper decided to place her in regular school. She had caught up with all of the other kids with her academics at this point so there was no harm in doing it now.

Eleven pushed open the passenger door and slid out of the car, her backpack secured behind her. She straightened her creased over-sized flannel top before dusting off her light washed jeans.

“You forgot your lunch, Jane,” Hopper said, reaching down to hand her a brown paper lunch bag. Eleven ignored the name the cop referred her to as. She disliked being called Jane – it brought back a lot of bad memories...but Hopper never dropped that habit, unfortunately. El, a nickname she coined for herself, was a much better alternative to her than Jane.

“Thanks for reminding me,” She said, before grabbing it. From the corner of her sight, she could see students steal glances at the large police cruiser that was parked in front of the building. Great. She hated having eyes on her, unwarranted attention was the last thing she needed on her first ever day of school.

“I hope this doesn’t become a daily occurrence,” Hopper teased.

“It won’t,” Eleven replied, “My mind has been all over the place since I’m nervous for today.”

“Don’t overstress yourself about it. The nervousness will be gone before you know it. People here are a lot friendlier than you make them out to be, it’s just a select few you have to watch out for.”

A select few. Eleven’s stomach churned a bit.

After she waved Hopper off, she watched the police cruiser drive further and further away from where she stood. She frowned, her nerves almost getting the better of her. It didn’t help that she could feel eyes from bypassing students on her. Was it her hair? It was short and curly and it framed her face well. She didn’t think it looked too unruly when she left the house. Was it the outfit she wore? She did dress plainly, a habit she caught on from Hopper’s utter lack of fashion sense. Not that she hated the idea of dressing nice, but she didn’t think too much of it, it just took up a lot of time. Clutching the straps of her backpack with her clammy hands, she walked into the school.

 

\------

 

Eleven stood in place among the other students who were quickly ambling through the particular hallway she was in. The usual hustle bustle of them heading to their first class and the loudness amongst them kept her attention glued onto them. Her prior self-consciousness remerged. The students dressed rather nicely, or so she thought. The girls presented themselves well, wearing clean-cut blouses, fitted jeans, dresses – but not too formal, and shoes that weren’t worn off at the edges. The boys weren’t too bad either. Hawkins wasn’t exactly one of those rich private high schools, but it was a far-cry from what she thought it would be. The brunette sighed; maybe she was overreacting.

When she turned around to continue walking to her destination, she bumped headfirst into someone. 

 “Sorry!” Eleven nervously said. What a great way to start the first day. She looked up to see who she bumped into exactly.

He was a rather tall guy who looked her age; dark wavy hair framed his pale complexion, freckles adorning the area across his cheeks. What caught Eleven off guard was the unmoving stare he had on her. His dark brown eyes gazed into her light brown irises for what seemed to be like the longest time; he had a rather startled expression, his lips parted.

The brunette had no idea how to decipher this until the boy’s expression changed. His seemingly shocked look changed into a rather…irritated one. The guy glanced downwards, causing Eleven to copy that sudden action. A myriad of papers and a couple of workbooks were scattered among them. The guy didn’t look too pleased, at all.

After what felt like an eternity, Eleven spoke up again to break the awkward silence.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” She repeated, realizing that she accidently knocked the guy’s papers and books out of his grasp when she crashed into him.

“Its fine,” The guy said, his voice equally matching his stern body language. When Eleven tried crouching down to help him grab some of his papers, he placed an arm between them, motioning for her to stop. Before standing back up, the girl did a short upward movement of shoulders, shrugging on impulse.

She tore her sight from the boy who was in the process of stacking his papers together and grabbing the workbooks that were further from his hold. Her eyes stopped on the clock ahead of her. _Shit._ It was 9:00; she had a mere 15 minutes until her first period began. She had to grab her schedule with the list of classes she had since Hopper forgot to do that ahead of time.

“Do you know where the front office is?”

The guy frowned, his face giving off the impression as to why the girl in front of him was still standing there and not having left by now. Eleven subconsciously mimicked his expression, wondering why he was giving off such a cold vibe. She didn’t do anything wrong, on purpose at least.  Where she came from, accidents like this were brushed off as nothing, because they were what they were…accidents.

When he finally gathered his papers and books, he stood up, easily passing Eleven’s much shorter stature.

“It’s right beside you.”

Eleven’s eyes widened when she saw a large entrance to the left of her with the words, Front Office, written above it. It was just a few feet away from them. Gosh, did she feel stupid.

“It happens,” The guy replied, noting her dumbfounded expression, “They have school maps inside, just in case people like you get into the habit of losing their way around here.”

When the other was about to say something, the guy immediately walked past her, heading to his class.

 _People like me? What does he mean by that?_ She had no idea if that guy was trying to be condescending or not. He had a patronizing tone to his voice though. Although unreasonable, he did look angry that Eleven so ungracefully bumped into him, proceeding to scatter a countless number of his papers all over the dirty school floors stomped on by dirt clad shoes. Maybe he was having a bad day?

Or was it _her_ attitude? Eleven did have a problem with giving off a taciturn vibe since she normally kept to herself, Hopper made sure to remind her of that, but this time she was being as polite as possible. Therefore, it was entirely him. The brunette pursed her lips. What was his problem?

She quickly dismissed those conflicting thoughts, before heading on to the front office to collect her schedule. _This was going to be a long day._


	2. 0.0943 or 0.141?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...stuff...goes down in this chapter...

Eleven often wondered, was the change of scenery for her going at too much of a fast pace? She moved to Hawkins just two and a half weeks ago, when the new school year started. Just a month ago, she found out she was moving 850 miles across the country. Eight years ago, she was adopted by Hopper. Since then, she lived a peaceful and rather uneventful life. She couldn’t complain; it was a far cry from what she went through before she lived with Hopper. The police Chief took her in without difficulty and treated her like his own daughter. She didn’t want to complain.

Eleven took quick strides after leaving the front office with her schedule in hand. She nearly cursed herself; she had less than five minutes left. She was going to badger Hopper about this some more once she saw him again, if she didn’t forget to.

Her first class was Alegbra II. Math was a strong suit of hers and she actually enjoyed the subject. The repetitive yet often challenging process of arithmetic always intrigued her. She hoped this class would be the antidote to finally relax her anxious mood.

Once she reached the entrance to the classroom, the girl pushed open the door.

She inwardly groaned when she saw that nearly all of the desks were filled. There was a minute or two before class would start so the room was loud with people talking amongst themselves. Eleven scanned the class to look for an empty desk to sit in. Her eyes stopped when she saw _that guy_ from earlier amongst the people sitting in desks, the guy she so ungracefully bumped into minutes ago. He sat in the back rows, fully immersed in a conversation alongside three other boys who sat in the desks adjacent to his.

The brunette almost let out a sigh in relief when she saw an empty desk at the wall of the class room. It was further away from the line of other desks, but what the heck. No longer standing beside the closed front door, she quickly went over to that desk, seconds before the teacher walked inside. She took off her backpack and set it beside her desk, copying the patterns of the other students, before sitting on the chair that accompanied it.

Eleven suddenly felt the support under the chair creak. Before she had any time to look at what the matter was, the support broke off from the seat, causing her and the chair itself to drop to the ground. Everyone’s heads immediately snapped towards her direction, taken aback from the loud noise.

Her face turned red; her embarrassment shooting up the charts. She sat there with her chair on the floor, the broken legs of the seat beside her. She saw that the dark-haired boy was staring right at her which just made things worse. With all honesty, Eleven thought it would have been more bearable if there were a few laughs, but it was completely silent – her frantic heartbeat loud. Not only did her bottom hurt like hell, the tense air within the room just added to the absolute discomfort she felt.

“Are you alright?” The teacher asked, holding a hand to help a mortified Eleven up.

She nodded, pulling herself up with the help of the instructor.

“Good, good,” The teacher laughed, “You must be the new student so you didn’t know any better. It’s our mistake; the janitors should have taken this desk out long ago.”

“It’s fine,” The girl quietly said. _What a great way to start the first day of this class._

“There’s actually one empty desk beside Mr. Wheeler,” The teacher said, looking ahead at the congested classroom, the many students partially veiling that one unoccupied desk. Eleven’s heart plummeted. She knew exactly where that empty desk was. _Fuck._ She was going to have to sit next to _him_ , “Mike raise your hand so she can find you.”

_So his name is Mike Wheeler._

Eleven could see Mike hesitate for a moment. Her heartbeat continued to race; she had no idea why she was so nervous about this in the first place. She surely wasn’t scared or even intimidated by the guy. She didn’t look it due to her innocent demeanor, but in case her initial suspicions about that guy’s attitude were right, she could easily hold her ground against him and become confrontational when needed. But she was suddenly thrust into the world of regular public school so it made sense for her uneasiness to be pronounced.

The brunette knew where to go, but she stood still beside the teacher, waiting for Mike to raise his hand. She felt sweat form at the edge of her hands once he finally raised his hand. Much to her surprise, he didn’t look annoyed. He had a straight face. Maybe he was laughing inside at her chair incident that happened seconds ago, maybe that’s what kept him from contorting his mouth into a full blown scowl. Eleven picked up her backpack and made her way to the seat beside Mike.

She sat down, trying her best to not to make eye contact with the dark-haired boy. She was too humiliated to. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on the notebook she pulled out of her backpack.

“Okay, today we’re going to start off with a group assignment,” The teacher began, “Everyone will be getting in pairs.”

 “We don’t need to go straight into the next chapter, especially since we have a new student with us, so it will be fitting if we start today’s class like this,” She continued. She walked over to her desk and picked up a large stack of papers, “On each sheet of paper is one problem, one that we commonly give to our students in Calculus. The problem is an integral in which you have to integrate the equation within it and then solve it based on the boundaries set. If you use the guide on the back of the paper and your knowledge of basic trigonometric identities and basic algebra, you’ll have no problem solving it. You’ll be working in partners so in 15 minutes, any group who’s sure of their answer can volunteer to work it out on the board.”

Unbeknownst to Eleven, Mike was already in the process of grouping up with either of his three friends. She instead was already looking at the student to the left of her. That student was whispering to her friend, so Eleven assumed she wouldn’t be able to work with that person. When she was about to scan the room for a potential partner, the teacher resumed.

“I’ll be the one assigning partners, so you all don’t take forever to find one.”

There were collective groans heard throughout the classroom.

As the teacher was handing out sheets, Eleven noticed her assigning the students sitting adjacent from each other to work together.

“Does anyone know what an integral is?” The instructor asked as she continued passing out the papers.

The room was silent, expectant cluelessness among the Algebra II students. Familiar with that term, Eleven almost shot her hand up, but she refrained from doing so. She didn’t want any more attention on her at the moment…or for the rest of this school day.

When the brunette thought this day couldn’t get any worse, it did. She saw her teacher finally make her way to her desk.

“You two will be working together,” The teacher said, motioning towards Mike and her. She handed a sheet to Eleven before heading to the next two desks. Eleven’s eyes were unblinking, her lips parting. She just about wanted to do a face plant on the table in front of her. Was she getting cursed by some form of a higher power today?

_No I’m definitely overreacting. It’s not like we got into a full-blown fight or anything; I don’t even know the guy…_

Eleven relaxed, before turning to face her partner. She immediately tensed back up when she caught him staring right back at her. She briefly frowned, taking in his expression this time. He was tightlipped, his eyes cold; he still had that icy, unfriendly demeanor she caught on back in the hallway. It was clear, he didn’t want to work with her. _Was he still mad that I ACCIDENTLY knocked all his papers out of his hands? Good god._

“What in the shit is this…,” A curly-haired boy in front of Mike said, in a hushed but audible enough voice. Everyone’s attention quickly diverted onto him. He held the paper up, completely befuddled at the math problem.

“Language, Dustin!” The teacher said aloud, “…and take your hat off. I don’t need to keep repeating myself.”

The boy, ‘Dustin’, removed his baseball cap, revealing his springy, dirty blonde hair. His assigned partner beside him, a dark skinned boy with a form fitting t-shirt, closely examined the contents of the problem.

“…Does anyone actually get this? Do you get this, Lucas? Cause I sure as hell don’t. Man, I should have skipped class today,” Dustin whined.

“That’s why they put a guide in the back, genius,” The other boy ‘Lucas’ said, flipping the paper over.

“Haha, that’s very funny,” Dustin said, matching his friend’s sarcasm.

Eleven drowned their voices out before looking back at the paper.

_Calculate the probability of locating an electron in a one-dimensional box with a length of 1.00nm and n= 4 between a = 0.143 nm and b= 0.286 nm by integrating the equation below and solving the integral between a and b._

“Do you want to start now?” Mike asked, breaking Eleven out of her reverie. This guy was an enigma. That question could have been easily been framed in a condescending tone, but he asked it in a neutral one. He was probably pushing aside all the pettiness he garnered this morning so he could get this assignment over and done with.

Eleven looked back up, noticing Mike’s expression had softened.

 

“Yeah, sure,” She replied, in the most nonchalant voice she could muster.

She glossed over the guide section of the paper once more before resuming, the figurative lightbulb flashing above her head. She turned the paper back to the front, pointing to the function that they needed to solve, “It’s a ‘sin squared’ function so you basically use ‘sinbx squared’ as the guide to integrate, b being equal to n times pi over L.”

Eleven felt an ounce of triumph emerge within her. God, she loved math…especially critical thinking exercises like this. To a much flabbergasted Hopper, she would ask him to order workbooks that were beyond the curriculum she was assigned for each successive year of her homeschooling – books that prompted her to exercise her brain and challenge herself.

“That’s incorrect,” Mike shook his head. Eleven instantly frowned, her brief bout of confidence instantly whisked away by his terse and dismissive answer. 

“Okay, what’s the correct way to do it then?” The brunette said, in a borderline snarky tone. She couldn’t help it, the slight arrogance to his voice was really off-putting.

“b is only equal to pi, because pi is the only constant in that function,” He replied, he leaned towards Eleven’s desk to get a better look at the paper, “n and L aren’t; those are variables.”

“n and L _are_ constants,” Eleven retorted.

“No, no they’re not,” Mike said, “n and L can change. Pi is the only value that stays the same and that’s 3.14.”

“I know what pi is,” The brunette defensively said, the prior nervousness she had was an after-thought at this point. After all, math was a subject she was passionate about. However, she was unaware of her looming short temper, “n is equal 4 and L is equal to 1, that’s why they’re constants. There can only be one variable and that’s x.”

“Actually, a function can have more than one,” He retorted. _So he’s a math nerd too._ Eleven pursed her lips.

“And this function isn’t one of them. N and L _don’t_ change.”

“Yeah they can.”

“No they can’t.”

“Yes they can.”

“ _No they can’t_.”

Eleven was so heated up that she didn’t notice the confused glances that came from a few of her classmates. Mike leaned back in his seat, keeping an inquisitive stare on Eleven. The girl furrowed her brows, impatiently drumming her hand on her desk. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t have a straight face…he actually looked…amused. Was her anger some sort of joke to him?

“Which school did you go to before this one?” He asked, “I don’t think your previous math teacher taught you correctly.”

Eleven let out an incredulous scoff.

“I was homeschooled.”

The boy had a brief bout of disbelief, before he regained his composure. That was inevitable because homeschooled kids were probably unheard of in this town.

“No wonder,” He mumbled. Eleven heard him clearly.

“What?” She spoke in an elevated voice.

“It’s nothing-”

“No, I’m not stupid; I know what you’re trying to get at,” The brunette interrupted, “Just so you know, we’re just as capable as kids who go to regular school. There’s no need to be so judgmental.”

Mike was taken aback for a moment, taking note of the fury in her eyes. He wasn’t amused anymore.

“Okay. Since you’re so smug about this, we can solve the problem separately.”

_Me? Smug? Pot meet kettle._

“Fine,” Eleven said, “I don’t want to spend the rest of this class arguing with you anyways.”

She ripped a sheet of loose leaf out from her paper before pushing the original paper with the printed question to the edge of her desk so Mike could have a better look. They both proceeded to work on the problem, separately. They were able to drown out the chatter of the other students who were still at a stupor as they stared down at their own problem sheets. It seemed as if nobody else but the two of them had any idea how to do the problem. Carried away, Eleven integrated the function, her handwriting rapid without much pauses.   

“Hey, Mike…does ‘2 over L squared’ go outside or stay inside?”

Eleven briefly peeked at the source of the noise. It came from a timid-looking boy with golden brown hair shaped into a bowl cut. His partner who sat behind him looked just as confused.

“Hold on, Will. I’ll be finished soon,” Mike said, completely immersed in the work he was doing.

The boy, Will, let out a frustrated sigh before turning his attention back to his partner. Eleven went back to her work, ready to plug in the values ‘a’ and ‘b’. She would steal glances at Mike to see the process of his work before focusing back on hers – it was her natural competitiveness taking over.

The both of them finished simultaneously, both circling their answers at the bottom of their papers.

“What did you get?” Mike asked, leaning over.

“0.0943,” Eleven said, “What about yo-”

“Okay class, that’s more than enough time I’ve given you all!” The teacher interrupted. It took a good few seconds before the class was completely silent, “Who wants to be the volunteer to solve this problem?”

Nobody raised their hands. Many of the students barely began the problem.

Eleven raised her eyebrows when she saw Mike sit up from his seat and walk up to the board, his paper in hand.

“Oh, we actually have one,” The teacher joked, “Very brave of you, Michael.”

“It’s Mike,” He corrected, slight annoyance in his voice. The teacher often slipped, forgetting his name preference.

“I apologize. Show us how it’s done then,” The teacher gestured to the board.

Mike did so, copying the work he did on the paper to the board. As everyone else in the class, Eleven’s eyes were locked onto him. She watched as he readily wrote down the work he did, the work that he came to a conclusion with, without the help of his partner. The class looked at him in awe, astounded that a sophomore was able to effortlessly work through a college-level problem. Eleven didn’t want to sound self-centered, but she wondered if he was only volunteering to solve the problem in front of the whole class just to spite her.

The dark-haired boy circled his answer before pointing towards it with the chalk to garner the teacher’s attention. … _God he looks so fucking smug._

“0.141,” the teacher read his answer, “Anyone disagree with this?”

It was quiet for another few seconds, not a single peep from any of the students.

Eleven felt herself getting up from her seat. She made her away across the aisle between the rows of desks she sat near before reaching the front of the class.

“Yeaah! New Student!”

Eleven’s face became red.

“Dustin!” The teacher hissed, after earning a few stifled giggles throughout the class. She looked back at Eleven, “What’s your name again?”

“El– Jane,” She fumbled.

“The board is all yours, Jane.”

She almost cringed at that name. A surprised Mike handed her the chalk before she proceeded.

“Can I write over your work?” Eleven asked, after Mike went back to sit in his desk. Mike almost rolled his eyes before he caught himself.

“Go ahead,” He said instead, his voice stiff.

Eleven proceeded to erase a portion of his work.

“He integrated this wrong because he treated n and L as variables instead of constants,” She said, eyeing him. Mike simply crossed his arms over his chest. He grinded his teeth, that sentence from her was totally meant as a jibe.

“Why are those constants?”

“Because for this specific problem, n is equivalent to 4 and L is equivalent to 1, which makes n times pi over L equal to 12.56 – a constant,” She finished before writing out the remainder of the work she did before circling the final answer on the board, next to Mike’s.

“So who’s correct?”  Someone in the class asked.

Eleven and Mike exchanged competitive glares, their stares unmoving from each other.

The teacher pointed to the circled 0.0943.

“Jane.”

Eleven’s expression relaxed. When she saw Mike’s shocked and almost…humiliated expression, she resisted the sudden urge to let out a grin, her self-assuredness flying through the roof. She dusted her hands of the chalk before heading to her seat.

“Homeschooling, am I right?” The brunette said to Mike.

Mike simply ignored her, keeping his eyes on the loose-leaf in front of him.

After that long class and the one after that, in which Mike wasn’t in – thank, god, she had lunch. So, he _was_ as bad as she initially guessed he was. _A select few._ Well, he was definitely one of those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHhhshh this was such a fun chapter to write! Mike getting his ass kicked by Eleven was fun to write, their back and forth bickering was fun to write, slowly introducing the other three boys was fun to write. 
> 
> And yes, that was a legit math problem it took me a while to understand it, but I think I actually solved it correctly for this fic.
> 
> And thanks to everyone who comments and gives kudos! It helps keep me motivated to write fics on here!


	3. Unforeseen Friend

Smoked turkey, lettuce, American cheese, and mayo between two slices of whole grain. An apple. Crispy Lays potato chips. A can of sprite.

There was something missing. Eleven peeked through her large brown lunch bag to double check. She inwardly groaned, the Eggo waffles amiss. Hopper insisted he prepare her school lunch, but he still managed to forget the most important food item of all. She told him she was just fine doing it herself since Hopper had more important affairs to concern himself with, but he ignored her protests and did so anyways. How he forgot the Eggo’s was a mystery. Those were her favorite snack. 

But she had more than enough to eat. She could do without waffles for one day.

“Hey, New Kid.”

Eleven glanced upwards at the unfamiliar voice. _Why did everyone feel the need to call her that?_ Hawkins High wasn’t that small of a school. From what she saw in the hallways, there were a moderate amount of students – not too many, not too little. Did everyone immediately recognize a new student’s presence the minute they started their first day?

The voice belonged to a girl with waist length red hair and bright blue eyes. Her skin was pale and adorned with freckles. She had a friendly demeanor, but one that looked like she only saved it for a select few people.

“You mind if I sit here?” She continued, pointing to the seat right across from her.

 “Okay…there’s more than enough space,” She said, not expecting this at all. Eleven was sitting alone, so there was no harm in doing that. 

She gave the girl one more quick but inspecting look. Half her first day of school had already passed and from what she inferred about other students, this girl had a different presence to her, when she compared them to the others. Like Eleven, her dress sense seemed simple and low effort – a green sweater over top a shirt and blue jeans. Though, the way she carried herself was one of confidence.

“Yes!” She said in a hushed voice as she did a downward fist pump. Eleven was a bit taken aback by her enthusiasm.  

“I’m Jane,” Eleven said, extending her hand for the other girl to shake. She needed a friend, so why not? She didn’t have her old ones here with her anymore.

“Yeah, I know. You’re in my second period,” She said, eagerly shaking her hand back, “You looked cool so I’m going to feel you out to see if my assumptions are right.”

Eleven was taken aback, instinctively pointing to herself in a ‘Who? Me?’ fashion. She didn’t think she was anywhere near ‘cool’…far from it in fact. She was often shy and awkward around new people if they didn’t have common ground or if she wasn’t able to speak about one of her interests.

“Yeah, you. This entire school is pretty scummy. It’s such a downgrade from the one I went to in California. Everyone there was incredibly chill, surprisingly,” The girl said, referring to the specific high school she previously attended, “Over here, you either have people who come off as fake or people who are rude to you for absolutely no reason.”

“First day in and I’ve already experienced that,” The brunette immediately said.

“Fake people or rude people?” The redhead asked.

“Rude.”

“Wow, no kidding. See? I told you.”  

“I mean, I don’t think _everyone_ in this school is like that, unless you’ve met every single person.” Her words were a frightening contrast to Hopper’s. She didn’t know who to believe. A man who graduated high school decades ago or a girl who was currently in the same school as she?

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, the redhead trying to raise a good enough retort to Eleven’s statement.

“You’re right…technically, but I’ve had my fair share of horrible encounters since I moved here,” The girl finally said, admitting defeat, “Who was it?”

“Who was who?” Eleven asked.

“The rude encounter you had. Just curious,” The other girl said, “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to-”

“Mike Wheeler.”

Eleven had no idea what came over her, she blurted out that name before she could think about it.

The girl’s expression contorted into what looked like to be a rather disgusted one. It was no question, her grimace pretty much gave away how she felt about that person. Honestly, Eleven didn’t want her first comfortable conversation to veer into that territory, but it was too late. Besides, she couldn’t help herself. Unbeknownst to her, she was a sucker for a little gossip.

“You know him?” Eleven asked.

The girl let out a loud scoff.

“Do I know him?” She repeated, “Nearly everyone in this school knows who he is. His father, Ted Wheeler, is one of Indiana’s senators. He’s loaded as fuck. Too bad his son is a scum-sucking piece of work.”

Eleven snorted. When the redhead questioningly looked at her, the other girl shook her head a smile on her face. It wasn’t even 15 minutes into lunch and Eleven already liked this girl. To her, it was a form of solace to have someone else trash-talk that guy.

“Don’t take it too personally. He’s like that to almost everybody, except for his three equally nerdy friends.”

“That makes me feel better,” Eleven said.

“Yeah, his parents spoil him rotten so he’s probably been raised to believe his own sense of superiority because of who his father is...thinking that he’s better than all of the lowly ‘peasants’ around him without accomplishing much of anything.”

“Peasants?” Eleven cracked a bemused smile, moreso at the girl’s choice of words.

“No, he doesn’t go around calling other students that word,” The girl joked, earning a short laugh from Eleven, “But he does think he’s better in some way, it shows. He’s been taught that.”

Eleven recounted her first encounter with Mike. The glowering look he gave her spoke volumes after she dared to unintentionally bump into him. In her lifetime, she’s dealt with a fair share of conceited people who were that way because they were loaded with money…or at least told been work stories from Hopper. He had many. Not all of them, but many of them he came across had that superiority complex and little regard for the wellbeing of others who they didn’t see as equals.

The brunette did feel like she accomplished something big today; she might have taken the guy down a peg or two…or three during that whole ordeal in class.

“Speak of the fucking devil.”

The girl spoke up, her blue eyes glaring daggers at the area behind Eleven.

She turned around.

There he was. Mike Wheeler, walking alongside the three other boys she recognized from her Algebra II class. Now that she picked up on it, he did have the inflated self-worth thing going on – his seemingly self-assured stride and posture, his aloof expression, the intimidating pretense he held, just the way he carried himself in general. He briefly dropped that façade when the curly haired boy beside him, Dustin, said something that was inaudible but apparently funny to Mike. The dark-haired boy got into a short fit of laughter. The other boy who she recognized as Lucas slightly shoved Dustin, not amused at his little quip. The fourth boy, the shorter one with golden tresses of brown hair, neatly styled with side swept bangs, looked a little distant from his louder friends – probably daydreaming about something – that stood out to Eleven a little bit. When she saw them about to bypass her table, she immediately turned back around, facing her half eaten sandwich.

Luckily, Mike didn’t see her.

She stole one last peek, watching them walk all the way to the other end of the large lunchroom.

“What about the other three?” Truthfully, Eleven felt a little shamefaced…or rather very shamefaced to be asking questions about people she wasn’t supposed to care about. 

The girl pursed her lips for a moment. She didn’t want to elaborate on that as she wasn’t fond of the other boys either. To her, whoever hung out with Mike was bad news by proxy so she’d much rather talk about anything else.

“I moved here months ago so whatever I say might not be 100% accurate,” She said, obliging to Eleven’s request. The brunette was new here, so it wouldn’t be nice of her to keep her in the dark about matters within the school, “but the guy wearing the hat, with the really messy curly blonde hair is Dustin Henderson. He’s not as unbearable as Mike, but he’s up there. He’s a goofball and a huge tease. If he tries coming onto you, don’t humor him.”

“Oh...okay,” Eleven nervously said, her face red. She was clearly taken aback by the girl’s last sentence.

“The guy next to him is Lucas Sinclair, he’s just as much of a geek and flirt as Dustin,” She continued, her eyes the guy getting noogied on the head by Dustin, “Like Mike, I’m pretty sure his parents are really well off since they live in Loch Nora.”

The redhead stopped talking as she pulled out a 2-pack of Hostess cupcakes from her lunchbox.

“What about the last one?” Eleven asked, noticing the girl missed the shortest of the four guys.

“Will Byers?” She said, “He’s Mike’s best friend. Him I don’t know that much about, at all, since he keeps to himself most of the time.”

The other kept her stare on the Will Byers kid, him being the first down to sit in the circular table at a secluded place in the lunchroom he was in with the other three. He was the in the process of carefully unwrapping whatever he had for lunch while the others were standing up and in the middle of an energetic conversation, probably arguing about something insignificant.

“Let’s talk about something else,” The redhead continued.

“Please,” Eleven said, snapping out of her reverie. She didn’t want to concern herself with him anymore. She had two jobs to do, study hard and make new friends.

 

\-----

 

Maxine Mayfield was a pretty name. That was the name of the girl who boldly asked if she could sit with her during lunch. She preferred to be called Max, though. Maxine didn’t ring well with her, it sounded too “girly” to the redhead apparently. Maybe next time Eleven saw Max, she’d give out her preferred nickname too. Since she moved to Hawkins, the amount of times she got referred to as Jane became exhausting. Aside from Hopper mixing up her name from time to time, it would be nice to actually have someone refer to her as “El” for once.

“How was the first day?” Hopper asked, after Eleven situated herself into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

“Strange,” Eleven replied after a short pause.

She shifted in her seat, slumping down lower. She was very exhausted at the moment; it was fair for her first day ever of school. Being thrust into a new environment like that and draining herself by trying to navigate her way through it did that to her. But she thought strange was a great way to put it – all the events that culminated today reinforced that.

“That’s a mouthful of words,” The Chief said, clear sarcasm in his voice, “I thought you’d have a lot more to say.”

Eleven shrugged. She didn’t want to go into specifics about her day for many reasons – basically whatever happened before her first period and during her first period. She was afraid Hopper misinterpret her and go into full protective dad mode by keeping a distant but careful watch on that person. Eleven could fight her own battles; she could take care of herself – it was ingrained within her from a young age to do that.

As she kept her stare locked onto her lap, her focus quickly diverged onto her outfit of the day.

“Can I go to the thrift to buy new clothes?”

“Now?” Hopper asked, “I have to go back to the station after I drop you off.”

“No, j-just when you have enough time to,” The girl said, a twinge of nervousness in her voice.

Eleven looked upwards her eyes deadlocked onto the windscreen of the vehicle. She saw the blurs of trees quickly pass them, the afternoon sun partially blocked by the sun visor she pulled down. She didn’t know why she asked that question in such an impulsive manner; she never asked the frugal Hopper to buy clothes. He either just went on ahead and received hand-me-downs that his ex-coworker owned and gave them to her – curtesy of said coworker’s son or went to a thrift store to haphazardly purchase some for Eleven.

“You don’t think your current clothes are fine?” Hopper was surprised she was concerned herself with such things after seemingly not caring for the longest time.

“Yes- w-well, no– not really?” She said, her nervousness not settling, “I just stand out a little bit.”

“That’s a problem?” Hopper almost feigned cluelessness.

“Yes!” Eleven exclaimed, noting the dryness in his voice. What would a small town police chief know about fashion?

“Since this seems so important to you all of a sudden, I’ll see what I can do then.”

 

\-----

 

“How long has he been at that?”

“20 minutes and counting.”

Lucas and Dustin peered over Mike. The dark-haired boy retreated to a table in the middle of the basement to his house. He sat there frozen, his eyes were glued onto a paper – the contents of it being the very same function he had to integrate this morning in his algebra class. He got the variable/constant part down, due to it being explained to him by… _her_. The boy let out a frustrated sigh, sinking his fingers into his wavy mop of jet black hair.

“…I did it exactly as she did,” He said, “Why do I keep getting it wrong?”

Beside that sheet of paper, several torn out pieces of loose-leaf laid beside it, pencil scribbles and jottings of numbers from the problem all over them. He reread the problem, reviewed the necessary integral in the guide, and then looked at the function again.

“Mike, give it up already. We literally do not need to study that crap,” Dustin said, his impatience quickly growing.

Mike’s eyes widened before he let out a soft gasp. He reached over and ripped out another sheet of loose-leaf from his notebook. Lucas and Dustin gave each other exasperated looks before they watched Mike quickly scribble out his sixth attempt at this problem.

“He’s just mad some girl beat him,” Lucas said.

Mike instantly tore his eyes off the paper, an annoyed look on his face.

“I’m not!” He exclaimed.

“Then why are you so hellbent on solving this problem? Oh wait– I can answer that for you, it’s cause you don’t like being one-upped at something you think you’re best at, especially by a girl.”

Dustin snickered.

“I’m sorry, Mike. But he makes a point,” Will said, from the corner of the basement. He sat cross legged, a large sketchbook on his lap. He was in the process of outlining a drawing.   

“Will, you always take my side,” Mike sighed, his frustration lingering.

“I’ll change my mind if you actually start the campaign now.”

Mike gathered all of the loose-leaf and crumbled them together, before tossing the giant ball of papers into the trashcan a few feet in front of him. He slid the original paper with the integration problem under the table, clearing the table to begin Part 1 of a new Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

“Okay, fine. Let’s start,” He said, unmoving.

“Mike, the game board is right behind you,” Dustin said.

“Oh, y-yeah it is.” He grabbed the board that was haphazardly placed on the couch from their previous Campaign.

“He’s been like this all day,” Lucas whispered to Dustin; he looked back at Mike, “Who’s the new girl you got paired up with anyways? What’s her name?”

Lucas and the others had known Mike since their early days of primary school, so they picked up on his personality patterns…like his predisposition to zone out when his mind was occupied with invading thoughts or his tendency to become unreasonably competitive at ventures like gaming or subjects like math.

“Jane,” He finally said, his voice neutral. The image of her popped into his head. A little shorter than average height, hand-me-downs – a red plaid shirt and loose fitting jeans, neat curly brunette hair that was waiting to grow out, prominent brown eyes – not as dark as his, but coffee colored, and a naturally soft expression to her face.  

He stole a glance at the paper he slid under the desk, both of their names written on it.

“Jane Hopper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I probably changed Lucas’ neighborhood, but it was fitting. His parents looked well off enough in the OG series.
> 
> How do you all like the idea of Max and Eleven quickly becoming best friends in this fic??? 
> 
> Also some good news: Chapter 4 is nearly finished and it’s going to be longer than this one!


	4. Grape Juice

“You look amazing.”

Eleven kept her stare on her full reflection that looked back at her in her bedroom mirror. She closely examined the black-rimmed white shirt she wore which was neatly tucked into a black and white plaid skirt that went right above her knees – one of the many outfits she snagged for an inexpensive price during her thrift haul with Max over the weekend. The outfit paired well with black eye boots she had owned for a while.

Her hair was sectioned into two short French braids, curtesy of Max.

“Really?” The brunette said, making sure she heard her friend right.

“Yeah, you look really nice, El,” Max said, readily getting into the habit tossing away Jane and using El. Within the fourteen days the two girls had known each other for, their acquaintanceship quickly blossomed into a tight-knit friendship. It was as if they knew each other for years. The outgoing Max was able to pull Eleven out of her shell and Eleven was able to match the redhead’s quick wit. Their shared animosity for their high school, their similar interests, and sense of humor added to that. Plus, Max skateboarded. She was automatically cool in Eleven’s book.

 “You don’t look so bad yourself either,” Eleven said, giggling when Max scoffed at her half-compliment. The redhead had on a rolling stones t-shirt with red plaid jeans, her wavy hair let down.

“Next time we go shopping, we’re going to stop at Zumiez,” Max said.

“Why?”

“To get you a skateboard, duh,” She continued, “We’d totally look so badass skating to school with them, especially with the looks we have going on.”

Eleven let out a disbelieved puff of air through her nose before shaking her head.

“No way, I need a bike so I don’t have to be driven around everywhere,” She said, “You should get a bike instead, those are easier to ride around with than a skateboard.”

“I’m not getting a bike. I’m saving up for something else. My job doesn’t pay enough for me to keep frequently buying stuff,” The other girl sighed, “Oh man, that reminds me…I have eight hour workdays this weekend. Gotta set up the whole venue around the store for the job openings we have.”

“Job openings?” Eleven’s eyes widened.

“Job openings.” Max answered, in a deadpan voice. She quickly realized what Eleven was trying to get at, “Are you looking for one?”

 _Yes._ She often felt guilty for asking Hopper for money, especially since he had a very limited amount of it. It came with the perks of working as a small town Chief, getting paid nowhere near the amount of a regular police chief. It could give her something to do after school and she’d have extra pocket money, so why not?

“I’d love to have one,” Eleven said. Max worked as a bakery assistant at a little bakery called Led Zeppoli’s…and god did they sell the best chocolate raspberry cream waffles. The general atmosphere within that building was very welcoming too, that was a plus. She wouldn’t mind working at a place like that.

“I can put in a good word for you. My manager won’t mind at all.”

“Really??” The brunette’s eyes lit up, “That would b-”

“Are you guys ready??” Hopper shouted from the living room, reminding them that school was to start in 30 minutes – the first day of Eleven’s third week.

“Yes!” Eleven shouted back.

 

\-------

 

“Do you need to wear the suit this early? What if you mess it up?” Will said, walking beside Mike. The latter was dressed head to toe in a grey-blue business suit, a spring tie with tulip-shaped patterns neatly tucked into it.  

“Yeah, you should have brought a spare change of clothes,” Lucas added, “Don’t the people in those fancy bigwig receptions you go to with your parents make a big deal out of that?”

“Aw, you guys worry about my wellbeing all of a sudden,” Mike sarcastically said.

Lucas and Dustin who were right behind the other two shared short laughs. Mike was still giving them the cold shoulder after their relentless teasing over his sore attempt at picking up a girl he found attractive at ‘The Palace’ arcade last weekend. His uncharacteristic awkwardness he showcased was a far cry from the over-confident persona he put on in school which made for plenty of shared inside jokes between Dustin and Lucas. Will was tempted to join in, but he was too nice not to kick his best friend down.

“Hey, if this makes you feel better, you look really dapper in it. This color suits you,” Dustin said, giving Mike a reassuring pat on the back.

“Totally tubular,” Lucas added, causing Mike to grimace.

“Don’t ever say that again.”          

Dustin snorted from Mike’s sudden straight-faced expression.

The dark-haired boy’s gaze traveled to a large, familiar police chief cruiser that came to a stop at the roadside close to the school entrance. When he was about to return his attention to his friends, he quickly remembered who normally emerged out of that car. He saw a girl dressed in a white and black plaid skirt with a white shirt tucked in step out of the vehicle; he quickly recognized the girl as Jane.

She looked…different.

They hadn’t spoken to each other since that incident during algebra, her purposely going to class as early as possible to snag a seat as far away from Mike as she could. But he noticed changes when he saw them.

His eyes were unblinking when he watched her grab her backpack before taking a brown paper lunch bag that was handed to her by whoever drove the car – her police chief father presumably. Another girl came out from one of the back passenger seats, long chest-length red hair and similar fashion sense. They waved ‘bye’ to the driver before they walked side-by-side, or rather the redhead was on a skateboard while the brunette walked. The two were heading towards the school’s main entrance. Mike bit the bottom of his lip, his gaze traveling in the direction ‘Jane’ walked.

“Mike! Let’s go!”

Dustin snapped him out of his reverie.

“W-what?” He said, turning to face Dustin. The curly-haired boy and the other two were several feet away, already at another entrance door. They gave Mike questioned glances, wondering what was keeping him in that frozen stance.

“Let’s go, class starts in five,” He repeated.

“I know,” Mike said, when he reached them. He vaguely heard sarcastic ‘sure you did’s’ from Lucas and Dustin.

The dark-haired boy stole one more glance over his shoulder, frowning when he realized the two girls had already gone inside the building.

 

\------

 

“What in god’s name is that?”

Max’s bright blue eyes were wider than ever as she stared down the stack of Eggo’s Eleven had unwrapped. Whipped cream, chocolate morsels, and candy-coated peanut butter pieces were sandwiched in between each waffle – the stack topped with fruit-flavored candies. Eleven couldn’t resist the gleeful grin that formed on her features, noting that Hopper actually took the time out of his busy morning to make this for her!

“The Eggo Triple-Decker Extravaganza.”

“Looks like a mountain of diabetes,” Max said, “Can I have some?”

Eleven immediately grabbed a silver butter knife and cut out a portion for her friend.

“He only makes this on special occasions,” She said, referring to Hopper, “So he’s probably in a really good mood today.”

They both dug into the sugar-filled dessert, sharing it after Max downed her smaller portion. Their regular lunches were beside them, left neglected. Eleven knew she was going to have a stomach ache, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. She was enjoying it too much to care.

“You think sales will increase if I asked my boss to add this on as a menu item?” Max asked, dragging her finger across the plastic plate to gather the remainder of the neglected whipped cream.

“Hey! You can’t just take credit for someone else’s creation!” Eleven retorted, in a teasing lilt, “It’s a Hopper original.”

“Okay, okay, jeez. I was going to ask for your permission anyways,” Max raised her hands in a defensive stance, “…You’re really passionate about your Eggos.”

“You know me so well,” The other said.

“If you do end up getting work there, that actually doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” Max continued.

Eleven couldn’t disagree. Hopper, the police chief of Hawkins, earning notoriety for a waffle dish he arbitrarily coined would be the cherry on top of this year. She grinned, a small laugh escaping her lips.

Her grin instantly diminished when she could see Dustin, Lucas, and Will – Mike coming from the other end of the lunchroom. The tallest held onto a lunch tray with the contents of food on it as he kept a head start, walking in front. Just the presence of this guy put her in a bad mood. Max took notice of her friend’s sudden change in face; she too saw them.

Eleven knew her easily hampered mood by his mere presence could have been easily interpreted as irrational as she hadn’t had the displeasure of interacting with him during the past two weeks. That, however, did not prevent her from taking note of his supercilious conduct over the past week, especially after what Max said to her on the first day of school. Aside from his tight-knit friend group, she saw the way he instinctively talked to and treated others – with disdain. The more she saw of him, the more apparent it became – especially since she had to see him every day. She was taught to be humble and altruistic so people like that grated on her.

When Mike momentarily turned his head to the side to say something to Lucas, he felt his foot get caught onto a duffle bag that stuck out from one of the lunch tables. What happened next transpired like slow motion.

He lost his balance and fell forwards.

People sitting nearby ceased their chatter and jolted their heads towards the direction of the noise, seeing Mike face down on the floor. Eleven looked on, just as shocked as the other onlookers. Max’s stunned expression was more pronounced than the brunette’s, her mouth wide open – it was a question of whether there was mild amusement to her stunned face or not.

There was a lengthy silence within the lunchroom, the five seconds of it feeling like hours.

When Mike’s friends went over to help him up, he quickly refused their help, pushing Dustin’s hand off his arm. The dark-haired boy got himself up as the silence lingered. It was a tense silence, nobody having any idea what would happen next because of Mike’s snubbing action.

His eyes widened he saw a large splotch of gravy splattered across the chest area of his suit and the white undershirt. His lunch tray remained on the floor, the contents of food spilt out from it.

The person who sat next to the duffle bag was frozen when she saw Mike nearing her. She looked very apologetic as anyone would in a situation like this, but something else caught Eleven’s attention. Adding on to her apologetic look, it almost looked like as if she was…scared.

“Next time, learn how to correctly hide your junk under the table.”  

“I-I’m really sorry,” The timid girl said. She quickly leaned over and fully pushed her duffle bag in until it was hidden.

Mike frowned when he did a second take on the complete state his suit was in. This was bad. This was really bad.

“Yeah, of course you are,” He continued, his anger looming, “What happens if someone breaks their arm? Or neck? What if they land straight on their head and fracture their skull?”

The girl’s head hung low as she slightly sunk in her seat.

“…It was an accident, I didn’t mean to,” She said, her voice quiet. The continued silence in the room wasn’t helping her psyche at all.

“I’m supposed to be meeting a bunch of VIPs my Dad is hosting for, right after lunch ends. I can’t go to them looking like this,” Mike continued.

The girl’s eyes shifted back and forth; she was unable to look him in the eyes. Her friends beside her could only look on, watching the girl slowly crumble.

“My uncle owns a dry cleaners…it’s a walking distance from here. I-I could let you borrow one of the suits in storage.”

“What was that?” Mike said…in a rather scornful tone. He heard her loud and clear.

“Mike-”

Mike felt Will’s hand on his arm, a plea for him to stop. Mike ignored this and continued, interrupting the girl who was about to say something.

“The one that I’m wearing was specifically tailored, for this very day. A replacement isn’t going to do a thing for me. All of this could have been prevented if you didn’t have your bag sticking out.”  

The girl felt tears emerge on her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling down her cheeks.

“…I’m sorry,” She apologized again, she couldn’t look him in the eyes. Mike’s frown deepened, empty apologies couldn’t undo this.

“Shit…even my arm hurts-”

“ _Leave her alone._ ”

Mike’s frowning expression changed into a rather shocked one. He was clearly taken aback, immediately distinguishing that soft but resilient voice. His initial assumptions were right, he saw Eleven stand up from her seat. He was unmoving and stiff, watching her walk closer and closer to him. For a second, it felt like they were the only ones in the lunchroom – the absolute silence within the room adding to that.

She stopped, a couple feet away from him. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. That didn’t intimidate her though. She was too angry to be intimidated. In fact, she was fuming.

“She already apologized, so leave her alone.”

Mike let out a quiet scoff, the side of his lips forming into a crooked smile. He was trying to keep an unaffected air, but lately he was clearly stupefied in this girl’s presence. He didn’t know why.

“Not until you mind your own business,” He said, after regaining his composure.

“It is my business,” Eleven retorted.

“Do-gooder Jane is a few steps ahead of herself,” Mike said.

Eleven frowned, she could feel her hands beside her form into tightened fists. She already disliked being called that name, but when she heard it come out from _his_ mouth for the first time, she want to hurl. She hated this guy. She hated this guy so much.

“What do you get from being so awful for no reason? It was literally an accident!” She said, her voice louder. She quickly recounted all of the contentious actions she saw of him from the last two weeks, “Do you get some form of enjoyment from tormenting others? Is that your only purpose in life? Do you have nothing else going for you?”

Mike’s anger became more pronounced, the last two questions – most likely rhetorical – getting to him.

“I really hope Karma does a number on you,” She continued.

“What? You can’t get your Police Chief father to do his dirty work instead?”

Eleven had no idea what came over her, but she grabbed a plastic cup of grape juice from the table right beside her and immediately flung it against Mike’s suit.

Mike was left slack jawed, his brown eyes slowly blinking.

Eleven’s frown was unwavering.

‘Ooohs’ and loud murmurs quickly erupted through the lunchroom. Eleven could have sworn she heard a few scattered claps, Max probably being one of those people. From the corner of her sight, she saw the flabbergasted looks of Dustin and Lucas. Will was just as stunned, but he didn’t look as upset as one would expect of a close friend of Mike’s.   

Eleven slammed the cup back on the table, startling the already shocked Mike. When she was about to storm out of the lunchroom, to cool off, she felt a teacher stop her by the shoulder.

“I need you two to come with me,” She said.

 

\-----

 

Eleven and Mike were seated side-by-side at the only waiting couch in the front office. They purposely kept the furthest distance possible from each other, but that was a difficult feat since the seat wasn’t wide enough. Mike frequently pulled at the white undershirt of his suit, closely examining the state of it. The purple dye of the grape juice newly decorated the entire top alongside the brown gravy. He knew those giant stains weren’t going to go away soon, if they ever would. He bounced his leg, his impatience not festering. 

Eleven kept her gaze on her lap, tightlipped and her frown unmoving. She had never felt this grave amount of anger in years. Yes, she could be short-tempered at times, she often got passionate about things, and she was emotional when she needed to be…but this was something new. She never had someone make her so livid before.

The two of them looked up when they saw one of the school administrators walk towards them.

“Alright, I’m not going to go into a lengthy lecture that you guys most likely won’t listen to. Instead, I’ll just hand you your detention slips,” She said, giving Eleven and Mike individual pink colored detention slips – the principals signature on them.

Mike knit his eyebrows together when he saw the scheduled detention time. It was today, right after school.

“I can’t go,” He said. Eleven looked at him.

“And why is that?” The administrator said.

 “I have somewhere else to be,” Mike said, his irritation growing, “…Like now.”

“Please be more specific. It’ll save us both the time,” The school employee said.

“My dad is hosting a ceremony at the Beiger House and I _have_ to be there. I can’t skip out on it,” Mike reiterated, his voice serious, “It’s very important to him and it won’t look good on my family if I do.”

The administrator squinted her eyes, noting Mike’s last name on the detention slip he held.

“Wheeler?” She said, “Wait- your dad is _the_ Ted Wheeler?”

“Yes,” Mike nodded.

“Okay,” She said, taking the detention. She ripped it to shreds before tossing it in the trashcan, “You’re excused then.”

Eleven’s mouth was wide agape.

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you in here again, I mean it,” The administrator added.

_Is this really happening??_

Mike hurriedly stood up from the couch and left the office room without another word.

Eleven’s face was still bemused. So he could literally use his last name to get himself out of tight situations like these? _No wonder he’s the way he is. He’s never been held accountable before in his entire life. People just suck up to him because he happens to share the dreadful “Wheeler” surname…_

She huffed, her stare locked onto the door where Mike left through.

 _Oh shit._ Hopper was going to kill her.

 

\------

 

She was right.

“Third week in and you already got a detention.”

Those were his first words after he picked her up at a very late 7:00 from school. The car ride back home was a silent one. It was probably worse than the very humiliating phone call in the office that Eleven had to make to Hopper’s work to tell him about her very first detention.  

Now she stood across from Hopper who was seated in the small table where they usually ate.

“It wasn’t my fault!” She retorted, finally mustering up her courage to speak up, “I was trying to stop this guy from bullying somebody!”

“…and you threw a cup of…grape juice on his suit,” Hopper said, “The principal told me that kid had a very special event to go to for his father.”

 “So?” The other said, not backing down, “He deserved it.”

“You could have deescalated the situation without having to resort to that.”

“If you saw what he was saying to that girl, you wouldn’t be taking his side!”

There was a rather long pause between them.

“You’re grounded for the rest of the week.”

Eleven let out a scoff, it mirroring her disbelief. Her grounding was going to span the days of the annual Hawkins County fair – _she was supposed to go there with Max on Friday._

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am,” Hopper said, in a calmer voice, “I had to put an abrupt pause to a very important investigation I was in the middle of, to pick you up at that late of a time.” 

“But I’m going to miss the-”

“-The County fair, I know. This might teach you to avoid getting detentions in the future.”

Hopper was strict at times, but to Eleven, he was being incredibly irrational. She guessed he was angrier at the fact that she interrupted that important investigation – which only compounded him to give her such a punishment. It was objectively unreasonable.

She was still speechless. Hopper was actually saying this; he was actually serious.

Eleven stormed to her room before slamming the door shut.

She slid down beside the bookshelf. _Deep breathes._ She tried repeating those two words in her head, but that wasn’t doing a thing to calm her down. That asshole’s smug face kept on forcing itself into her mind. He just had to ruin everything. Now she was going to miss out on something amazing and be stuck home all weekend because she got herself involved with him. She clenched her fists. _Fuck him._

_Fuck you, Mike Wheeler._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL.
> 
> I really hope I wrote everyone's characters well enough in this chapter. I tried incorporating elements of S2 "Emo™" Mike for this story and the pressure his father puts on him to explain his short fuse after getting his suit messed up. I really hope you guys liked this one! I craving for feedback on this chapter, so if you can please leave a comment on your opinions of this. 
> 
> Once again thank you all sm for reading this story and commenting and kudos-ing and bookmarking and all that stuff, it really makes me feel great about this fic.


	5. Outrage

“He’s still not talking to you?”

Dustin waited for Mike to lock his bike alongside the bicycle racks. The taller boy tensed, almost fumbling the bike lock he held. He quickly recounted the humiliation he felt during the culmination of those events – being demeaned in front of the many, many students in the lunchroom then getting grape juice thrown at him by the very same person who insulted him. To make matters worse, Will was very displeased with his behavior when he tried calling the boy for consolation – Dustin and Lucas were the only ones speaking to him now.

“No,” He finally answered, in an uneasy manner. He pried the U-shaped lock open, placing the lock around the bike frame. When he tried pushing it shut, he frowned, unable to lock it back closed, “You should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw me coming out of the school with _that_ on my suit.”

He remained crouched, repeatedly trying to push the lock shut.

“He told me to go home anyways,” Mike continued, his voice solemn this time, “Said that he’d rather not have me there to humiliate him.”

Recalling the conversation he had with his father in the car ride home yesterday brought on a sudden spell of anger. That propelled him to push the lock together at a faster pace.

Mike let out a frustrated sigh when he saw the newly chipped end of the lock. He stood upwards and tossed it to the ground.

“Hey, Mike…”

“It’s okay, I can always get a new one. Nobody here really steals bikes anyways,” He interrupted, ignoring Dustin’s attempt to console him, “Let’s go.”

The curly-haired boy simply followed Mike to the school’s entrance.

 

\------

 

The day after her detention, Eleven’s bad mood was far from an afterthought. Her anger had resurfaced after Hopper had dropped her off at school and after she recalled the conversation she had with Max on the phone – telling her friend she was unable to go to the weekend-long county fair. Because of this, she continued to give the cop the silent treatment, her tenaciousness unwavering. Hopper did call her stubborn, but she didn’t care. Hopper was being unfair and misplacing his own frustration with unrelated issues on her.

She stopped when she reached the edge of the hallway, seeing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas next to the lockers, the boys deep in a conversation. When she saw Mike’s face, something in her snapped.

The brunette immediately turned the other way and kept a fast stride, pushing aside crowds of slow-walking students. When she reached a secluded hallway, she picked up her speed, not knowing where she was going exactly. All she knew was that she needed to find some place to blow off some steam.

She ran, pushing open a door at the end of the corridor. She quickly went up a flight of stairs, reaching a small outer balcony. She nearly flinched from the loud noise of the door slamming behind from her pushing it open so hard, but she ignored that.

She was out of breath, her hands gripping the railing of the balcony. She blinked the wateriness out of her eyes as her breathing remained labored.

She bit the inside of her lip.

Then she suddenly let out the loudest and longest yell she could muster.

She breathed out, a loud and exaggerated groan escaping her lips. She stomped her feet against the ground, her steps creating boisterous pounding noises against the concrete floor. She looked like a crazy person, but that didn’t matter. Nobody was here but her.

The brunette slammed her hands against the railing.  

“Fuck you, Mike Wheeler!” She yelled, her invasive thoughts finally escaping her.

Eleven sighed. She turned around and leaned against the railing, rubbing her hands across her face.

She suddenly froze.

She abruptly placed her hands back down when she could have sworn she saw someone peeking behind a space behind the wall that formed the balcony entrance. Eleven stood still, trying to see if she was right, if she wasn’t the only one here. She heard a slight movement against the concrete. She _was_ right.

“W-Who’s there?” She said in a weak voice, her sudden boldness immediately being sucked out of her. _Rapidly oncoming humiliation coming in 3…2…1…_

The person came out from the area they were previously hidden in. If it was any random stranger, Eleven would have quickly gotten over the embarrassment…but no, it wasn’t just any “random stranger” – it was that Will Byers kid. Mike Wheeler’s closest friend.

_Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck._

To Eleven’s surprise, he didn’t look mad. He was just a little taken aback…maybe really taken aback. Who wouldn’t be if they came across a person yelling at nobody in particular and stomping their feet on the ground like a crazed person?

“…I didn’t know anyone else was here,” Eleven finally spoke, “Sorry.”

When she was about to bypass him to leave the balcony and wallow in complete mortification for the rest of her life, Will interrupted her.

“No, no, it’s fine,” He said, regaining his composure, “…sorry for interrupting your little screaming session.”

Eleven raised her small eyebrows. Contrary to some of her preconceptions of him, he seemed rather…polite compared to his other friends. He had a rather harmless air to him.  Even more surprising was that he wasn’t berating her for talking smack about Mike. Even the last quip he added would have sounded sarcastic if it came from Mike or Lucas or Dustin…or most people in general, but it sounded good-humored when it came from this guy.

“There’s just a lot going on,” She said, discomfiture still present, “I didn’t mean for anyone to see this.”

It was quiet between them for a few seconds. Eleven stuffed her hands in her pockets of her coat, nearly shivering from the cool breeze. Neither of them moved from their spots. Eleven noticed Will trying to muster up his next words to say. That was another difference she suddenly picked up. He had a timid look about him – a shyness that differentiated him from the other boys.   

“That was cool of you.”

“Huh?” Eleven said.

“What you did in the lunchroom yesterday,” Will reiterated, his voice soft-spoken and genuine, “…that was cool of you.”

“W-what?” She said, shock in her eyes. She knew exactly what he was talking about. _Did she hear him right? Yes she did._

There was a disconcerted look to him, maybe a brief regret to those words he just said. That was his best friend he was undermining, specifically to someone who very much disliked him.

“…I don’t want to repeat myself; that was kind of hard to say as it is.”

“No, I heard you. I’m just…shocked, I guess?” She said, “Aren’t you his best friend?”

“Yes, I’ve known him since I was five,” Will said, “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with the way he acts all the time.”

That was news. Will probably felt a sense of obligation to stick with Mike through thick and thin since they’ve known each other for an upwards of 10 years. But she didn’t understand – how could someone so polite be friends with someone like Mike? Was there something to their friendship dynamic that she was missing? It probably wasn’t any of her business but it confused her in a rather frustrating way.

“How do you deal with him? He’s so insufferable…he thinks he can get away with treating other people the way he treats them because of who he is. It’s just- it’s just so infuriating to see,” Eleven said, her hands trembling from the inside of her pockets.

How she was spilling all of this to Mike’s best friend, she had no idea. Her emotions were running wild at this point so whatever would come out of her mouth was something she’d say on impulse. That included her burgeoning thoughts about this situation that were just waiting to burst out.

She kept her eyes on Will, anticipating what he would say next. As expected, he did look a little offended, but he decided to not let that impede on what he was about to say next.

“I don’t like when he’s like that either,” Will admitted, him implying that Mike wasn’t unbearable all of the time or that he always wasn’t like this, “-and I know this doesn’t excuse any of his actions, but he’s been going through a tough time. I try to be there for him, but it’s hard to be around him when he...acts that way.”

“Son of six-figure-making Ted Wheeler, going through tough times…” The brunette mumbled, disbelief lacing her voice.

There was a pregnant pause that followed, the faraway sounds of birds chirping in their periphery and leaves rustling from the oncoming fall wind. With that silence came an uncomfortable tension between them, one that Eleven could pinpoint. It was Will’s sudden darkened expression. He clearly wasn’t pleased with what she just said.  

“His father has been really hard on him lately and micromanages every part of his life,” His tight voice reaffirming his unhappy expression, “The amount of money they have won’t ever change that.”

Will went down the steps and picked up what looked like to be a sketchbook and pencil box – those items hidden behind the wall where he initially was. He pulled open the balcony door before leaving.

Eleven was frozen in her spot, confused by Will’s sudden action. His sudden change in emotion took her aback, her being able to detect the slight anger that came about in his normally neutral tone of voice.

 

\------

 

She thought Will Byers was a strange person. It would have been normal of him to leave or even call her out the minute she started ranting about how horrible Mike was, but it was that last sentence she said to him that set him off. She didn’t think it was particularly offensive. From birth, she was raised in a working class family and then moved to an orphanage after a certain incident…before Hopper adopted her. And although Hopper was the Police Chief, he was only the Police Chief of small town Hawkins. That didn’t exactly pay the big bucks. Privilege and money were the opposite of huge staples of her life.

She wanted to let these thoughts dissipate as soon as possible, but unfortunately, Byers intrigued her and she didn’t want to be intrigued, let alone be the least bit interested in anyone having to do with Wheeler. But, oh well. That’s what she got for getting herself involved with his issues.

Eleven continued to lay back on the couch, drowning out the quiet noise of the T.V beside her. When she wasn’t watching T.V, she liked it that way. A house of complete silence bothered her, she always needed some form of background noise.  The brunette glanced at the digital watch.

It was 7:01 P.M.

It had been an hour and half since she was home alone and she was bored. She was so bored. There was nothing on T.V and she didn’t want to do her homework. She wondered, would Hopper shorten her punishment if she stopped with the silent treatment?

The phone rang.

Eleven shot up and quickly answered it.

“Hello?”

“El! I just talked to my manager and he said for you to come in on Saturday!” Max’s gleeful voice exclaimed from the other end.

“Really??” Eleven beamed.

This was the best news she would possibly hear all week. Maybe missing the county fair wouldn’t be all too bad.

“Yeah, 4:00 P.M sharp!” She confirmed, “You’ll have to fill in an application and go through the interview process and from there, he’ll decide if you’re right for the position. And since I recommended you, you’re probably up there on applicants most likely to get accepted.”

The brunette bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to let out a full blown squeal. She would actually get a job and make her own hard-earned money for the first time in her life.

_Wait, this is on a Saturday._

Eleven’s smile faltered.

“I’m still grounded though…”

“So? You’re literally applying for a job. He’d be crazy if he didn’t let you go out for that.”

“That’s true,” She plainly said, although there was no confidence in her voice matching that statement.

“Dude, if he doesn’t let you, I’ll spam call your number until he gives up and says ‘yes’,” Max ardently said, causing Eleven to laugh on the other end, “I can see you really want this.” 

“…You wouldn’t dare do that to a cop.”

 “Watch me, El.”

Their conversation went on for the next two hours, them talking about anything…having to do with anything, Max once again going on about how proud she was of Eleven for standing her ground during that lunchroom incident. They were so immersed in their conversation that Eleven didn’t notice Hopper knock on the door of the cabin-house. That was where they decided to leave off the conversation cause Max had to “speedrun” some overdue assignments.

The brunette opened the door, letting Hopper in. The tall statured man placed his cop hat aside on the hat stand. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Eleven unmoving from her spot and blocking his way. He could have sworn the girl could look so intimidating on whim, even though had a harmless bearing at first glance.

“What?” Hopper said, he was legitimately confused.

“I need to tell you something.” Her first words to him since that fight yesterday.

“…So now you’re finally talking,” Hopper said. When he saw Eleven’s displeased expression, he quickly dropped the condescending air and motioned for her to continue, “What is it, El?”

“My friend might have gotten me a job.”

“Max?” He questioned, “Which place is it?”

Eleven nodded, “The Led Zeppeli’s bakery at Mulberry. They want me to come in for an interview on Saturday...but I’m still-”

“…You’re still grounded,” He finished his sentence, he paused before continued, “But I’m not going to keep you from getting a job. You can go.”

She let out a relieved breath from her nose. She wasn’t sure why she’d be so quick to assume Hopper wouldn’t let her. Sure he was unfair at times, but she didn’t think was dead-set irrational. Though, him not being as happy as he’d normally be by news like this was a given. The two were still on not so-good terms so there was that tension between them.

Eleven turned around to head into her bedroom. Before she could take another step, Hopper spoke up again.

“You can go to the county fair too.”

She faced him, astonishment on her features.

“What? Really?”

“Yes, I said it loud and clear,” Hopper said, his calm tone not matching Eleven’s surprised one, “I’m rescinding your grounding.”

Eleven’s mouth immediately formed into bright grin, her entire face lighting up. She could go. _She could actually go!_ She still ran up to Hopper and gave him a large hug. He gave her a few reluctant pats on the back, her overbearing happiness a little too much for him.

“Don’t get too mushy on me, kid. You might make me change my mind,” He joked.

Eleven broke the hug.

“I thought about this for a while and I realized I wasn’t being fair. I was letting my frustration with work-related issues spill onto you and I wasn’t thinking clearly…I’ve gone through what most people go through at school-,” He paused, not wanting to go into the obvious diatribes about the effects of bullying, so he kept it short, “You were only doing what was right, so I apologize.”

She was so thankful, thankful to have someone like Hopper take her in. Like any flawed person, he often had irrational, spur-of-the-moment actions, but he always admitted to his wrongdoing. Whether that was soon or much later, he learned from the error of his ways and continued to grow as a person, even at his older age.

“Was that statement a good enough compromise to accept my apology?”

The brunette nodded, her smile reemerging at that little inside joke of theirs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Hawkins High is actually a 1 floor school 
> 
> I'm kind of self conscious about the pacing of this story (whether it's slow or not), but I don't want to make everything go too fast. Do you all prefer "slow burn" stories or romantic plots that go by fast? I think the former is more realistic in a story like this.


	6. The Cleric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So according to the latest comments on this fic; this one is going to be a "slow-medium" burn. Not unrealistically fast, but not super slow. (thanks for the feedback on that!)

“You’ve _never_ had funnel cake before?” Max jeered in disbelief.

Eleven shook her head, chewing a mouthful of the doughy treat. Unbeknownst to her, there was a noticeable dusting of powdered sugar on the side of her mouth. It was one of the many county fair snacks she would mass-purchase if she could and gorge on until she collapsed from a sugar overdose.

The two girls walked side-by-side, keeping close in case they lost each other within the hefty and loud crowds of people who came to the first day of the annual county fair. Eleven briefly looked upwards; the sky was completely dark, them having spent a good three hours in the fair already – impulsively spending money on snacks, purchasing tickets for the carnival games booths and the rides – Max going on the much scarier ones while Eleven profusely declined and opted for slower ones like the merry-go-round.

She took in the strong and mingling scents of funnel cake, kettle corn, and other enticing treats wafting from snack bars. She vaguely heard loud screams from a pendulum ride not too far from her. Nearby, she saw parents cheering on their kids as they won a plush animal from a game booth. Eleven loved the atmosphere – she loved the liveliness and happiness that radiated off this place.

What caught her attention the most were all the colorful lights from the fair venues – lights ranging from the ordinary incandescent lights used to light up snack bars to red, white, and blue flashing carnival lights decorating some booths. They completely illuminated the otherwise dark areas they were installed in. Her eyes traveled to a giant Ferris wheel ahead of them, the alternating purple and green LED lights decorating the spokes. It was incredible; she had never seen anything so eye-catching before.

This was the perfect change from the awful start to her week.

Eleven pulled out some more funnel cake from the plate of it that Max was holding. She dusted the fallen powdered sugar off of her jeans before taking a bite.

“Hey, you want to go on the Ferris wheel?” She spoke up.

“Aw those are so boring. I actually have to go pee anyways,” Max said, shoving the last bit of funnel cake in her mouth, “You can go without me.”

“Are you sure?” Eleven asked.

“Yeah, I’ll wait on the bench over there by the time you’re done,” She said, pointing to the seat several feet across from the plush animal booth.

After that, the brunette ambled her way through some more crowds. For some inexplicable reason, she fixated on that particular ride…maybe that was just her propensity to be drawn to ‘pretty’ looking things. There was also the fact she had never been on one.

She came to a stop once she reached the very long line behind it. She hoped she wouldn’t keep Max waiting for too long. Eleven looked downwards, aimlessly shifting her boot-clad foot on the grassy ground below her.

When she absently took a step back, she felt herself bump into someone. She quickly whipped around to apologize, but immediately clammed up when she saw who it was.

That person had the same look of shock too.

“Jane?”

“Uhh, hi…Will.”

Her awkwardness was very present. She didn’t know what terms she was on with him since they left off on an abrupt note the last they spoke to each other, “What are you doing here?”

“…The same thing as you,” He replied, noting the obvious.

“Oh,” Eleven nodded, feeling a little dumbfounded. She nervously picked on the side of her dark over-sized wool-polyester coat, her eyes looking ahead at the revolving Ferris wheel.

“Did you come here yourself?” Will noticed that Eleven was standing by herself in the line just as he was.

“No, I came with my friend, Max,” She replied, facing him again, “What about you?”

“I came with my mom.”

Eleven nearly smiled at that, but she stopped herself from doing so. She swore she could get so mushy at the smallest of things.

“I made her come along with me since none of my friends wanted to go,” Will continued, “Sad, right?”

Eleven fervently shook her head, her brown curls bouncing along with her abrupt head movement.

“No, no, that’s actually really sweet.”

“She’s really enjoying herself though, so that’s good. She really needed this,” The boy said, a small smile forming on his innocent features. Eleven smiled back.

She thought it was quite nice that he seemed to be so considerate of his mom. It was something she didn’t see too often, so it was refreshing a bit. They walked up some more, noticing the line ahead of them getting shorter and the next set of people going up on the ride.

“Is this the second time we’ve bumped into each other? In completely different places, too,” Will spoke up, there was a sudden humorous lilt to his voice, one that he added when he let his guard down, one that, this time, went unrecognized by Eleven, “This doesn’t seem like any regular coincidence.”

Her face went red.

“If you think I’m stalking you, I’m not!” Eleven exclaimed, a little too defensive for her liking. Do-gooder, passionate, stubborn, or fiery-tempered – those she could deal with. Stalker was the last title she wanted to have marked on her reputation; that would be excruciating for her.

“I-I know, I was just joking, Jane,” Will said, just as flustered. He thought Eleven would catch his use of humor, but it went unnoticed.

“It’s El.”  

She corrected him after a short pause.

“Huh?” Will raised his eyebrows, not exactly catching that.

“El, you can call me El,” Eleven said, lately she only caught herself giving out her nickname to people she was comfortable with. Was she comfortable with Will? She barely knew the guy and he was literally the closest friend of a person she very much disliked, so she wasn’t quite sure. She had no idea what came over her when she blurted it out like that.   

“Is that a nickname?” Will asked, with much curiosity; he had never heard a name like that before.

“Yes.”

“What’s it short for?” He asked.

Eleven felt slightly uncomfortable; Max was the only person she told since she moved here. Not just about ‘El’, but about Eleven. She was self-conscious about his judgement when it came to her ‘full’ nickname, but she didn’t want to think too much of it. What harm would come out of telling him? He didn’t seem like a hypercritical person at all.

“Eleven,” She finally said.

“As in the number?” Will said, his usual inquisitiveness surging.

Eleven nodded.

“I’ve never heard one like that before. Why Eleven?”

“Why all the questions?” She almost echoed back at him. She was almost amused at his sudden relaxation, one that involved him rapidly throwing questions at her, “I didn’t think my name was too interesting.”

“Because it _is_ interesting,” Will said, his natural shyness was almost gone at this point, his interest in her name replacing that.

“It’s Eleven, for the eleventh place I’ve moved to, the first place I could call home,” She shrugged, the ‘eleventh’ place being a small trailer house in Nebraska, inhabited by a man named Jim Hopper. She was surprised at her unexpected candidness, “That’s all it is. I don’t like my real name for many reasons so I just go with El.” 

Will nodded, intrigued, but he decided not to press anymore.

Before they knew it, they were moving in the line again, them being the next set of people to ride on the Ferris. The ticket usher took their set of tickets before they were escorted onto the ride. Will motioned for Eleven to go up the steps first as they previously stood side-by-side during their wait in the line.

They were seated in the ride, Will and Eleven deciding to sit together in one of the small Ferris wheel seats. The Ferris wheel operator placed the protective pole in front of their seat, to keep them from tipping over. The operator quickly moved onto a new set of people, leaving Will and Eleven to take in the sight around them. He took notice of Eleven’s awe struck look, the alternating LED lights of the ride flickering against her face. She was clearly overwhelmed with excitement. She looked like an overly excited kid who was about to experience her first ever amusement ride.

When a new set of people filled the bottom seats and everyone else was seated in their respective seats, the Ferris wheel began moving.

Eleven let out a shaky gasp and clutched the pole with her hands, when the wheel sped up a bit. Will looked at her, a little amused at her sudden irrational fear and unusually startled face at such a slow moving ride.

“You’ve never been on one of these before?” Will asked.

“No,” Eleven ardently shook her head. From the corner of her sight she could see Will cracking a smile, “Don’t laugh– o-oh my god we’re going up so high!”

Will couldn’t help but to let out a few peals of laughter, when Eleven’s voice suddenly went up a few pitches. She quickly shut her eyes, only able to hear the whirring of the Ferris wheel’s slip ring, Sheila & B Devotion’s Spacer from faraway speakers, and Will’s laughter. His laughter was light, endearing…and strangely adorable, a contrast to his best friend’s usually insincere and patronizing one.

He could see all the brightly lit venues and everything else below getting tinier and tinier as their seat continued to rise up. They were nearing the top of the Ferris. Eleven eyes were still closed. She was still afraid, the previous rides she went on were quite mild in terms of their fear factor…like the carousel.

“Come on, open your eyes, it’s not that bad,” Will said, nudging her shoulder, he flicked his eyes back to the sight below them all, “The view’s so nice!”

Eleven reluctantly opened them.

Her heart nearly flew out of her chest when she saw it.

He was right.

The many lights from all the different fair venues were incredibly breathtaking from high-up. The yellows, reds, blues, greens, purples, pinks mixed beautifully together. From they were at the very top of the Ferris, they could see all the vibrant crowds of people – them looking like tiny dots from their height. The two were silent, taking in the magnificent view of the entire place. The speed of the ride, the tall height, none of that bothered Eleven anymore…she was too enthralled by the sight below.

_He's a spacer_ _A star chaser A spacer He's a spacer A star chaser A spacer_

 “Pretty.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said that, the music playing in the background mostly masking it.

“It’s amazing,” Eleven said, this time in an audible voice. Will nodded, agreeing with her.

After a few more revolutions the Ferris wheel came to a stop and they got off the seats. Eleven quickly noticed Will going the same direction as she was.

“Oh, you’re going the same way?” Eleven spoke up, realizing that Will was still behind her.

“Yeah,” He said, feeling a little awkward once Eleven just noticed him, “My mom’s waiting near all of the game booths.”

They went, Will slightly behind Eleven. They didn’t know if they were on terms to be walking side-by-side like actual friends.

Eleven saw Max waiting at the same bench she’d wait in, but she was in the middle of an animated conversation with a group of other kids she knew – possibly other people she knew that didn’t attend Hawkins High. When Max saw Eleven’s presence, she straightaway noticed Will behind her. Max looked very much stunned that her friend was with Will Byers of all people for a split second before her attention was quickly whisked back to the group she was talking to.

Will tried scanning the ambling crowds for his mother, but saw no sign of her.

“Huh, I can’t find her,” Will’s voice broke Eleven out of her reverie, “…She should be here soon.”

Eleven's sight suddenly shifted to a plush booth, dozens ranging from ordinary stuffed animals to plushies of classic video game characters.  Red and white targets hung below the toys. Her eyes drifted to particular plush toy that was shaped like a giant mushroom, a red cap with large red dots around it and two beaded black eyes on the face. She honestly found it adorable…not to mention, she needed some sort of souvenir from this exciting trip.

“Do you want to try the stuffed animal booth while you wait?” The girl suddenly said. There was no harm in her wanting to hang out some more with Will while Max was busy chattering away.

“Sure,” Will said, without judgement over her impromptu request.

They proceeded to give away a rather hefty amount of their tickets they had left to the booth operator just for one set of darts. The two of them stood several feet away from the booth, behind a yellow line, as told.

“I think I can get that one,” Will spoke up, he pointed to a large mushroom plush that was at the higher row, the target below it small and hard to aim at.

“You think so?” Eleven said, framing that rhetorically, “I don’t.”

“You want the Dash Mushroom too?” Will said, able to read her mind.

“Yes,” She nodded, her competitiveness forthcoming.

“Okay, whoever hits it first gets to keep it,” His voice as driven as Eleven’s.

“Deal,” Eleven said, before the two shook hands. Then she added, with a teasing voice, “That’s no problem for me. You, I don’t know.”

Will gave her a rather flabbergasted look, offended that she so quickly denied his aiming abilities. Eleven giggled, a smile lighting up her features. She was rather amused at Will’s comical offense, never seeing that side of him throughout the night.   

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure I can do this. This doesn’t look too hard at all,” Will retorted, “Just watch.”

He firmly clutched on to the dart and brought it upwards. He closed one of his eyes, pinpointing a good enough aim. Not long after, he threw it towards the target that sat below the mushroom plush. His hazel eyes were suddenly wide, his expression slack jawed when he realized he chucked the dart over the entire booth.

“Oh shit…”

The amount of guilt Will had on his face for doing something accidental was astronomical.

Eleven’s laugh reemerged, more so at Will’s surprised expression. He grimaced when he saw the booth operator with much annoyance dash behind the booth to find the dart.

“I’m sorry!” Will called out, before the man came back.

“Yeah, just make sure not to hurl it like a projectile next time,” He said. Eleven stifled a few more laughs to a much mortified Will.

Eleven decided to try next.

She threw at the very same dart, missing it by a few feet. She sighed, slumping her shoulders. She grabbed another dart from the box before throwing it, this time missing by inches above the target.

“You were way too confident. You suck at this too, El,” Will said.

“Hey! I’m nowhere near as bad as you! At least I can land the darts _within_ the booth,” She retorted, “Besides, I think I’m getting better at this.”

They took alternate turns, trying to hit the target and then missing. A good few minutes passed and there was growing frustration between the two.

“We only have four more until we run out,” He whined, holding up the dart box to show her, “and we don’t have enough tickets to get _another_ set.”

“I’ll use up two and you can use the remaining two,” Eleven said.

Eleven proceeded to throw those two darts, entirely missing the target. She groaned, her frustration quickly arising. She quickly assumed Will was going to miss the target, by a long shot.

She watched him throw it. He, of course, missed, hitting the roof of the booth. He bit his lip, taking the last dart. He pressed his brows together, putting enough concentration into this one.

He threw it, the dart hitting the square middle of the target. Eleven’s jaw dropped.

Will instantly jumped up and down in jubilation, a cheerful yell escaping his lips. That really surprised the girl, she had never seen the normally calm and diffident boy like this in school – but she was too sulky to celebrate this side of Will she hadn’t seen before.  

When the boy took the giant plush from the booth operator, he saw the very dejected Eleven. Her bright brown eyes were downcast, and her lips downturned into a small frown. Her sudden bout of pride was bruised and her disappointment in her not being able to get the plush she so badly wanted was very apparent.

“You can have it.”

Will extended the stuffed toy towards her. Eleven was momentarily surprised but she shook her head, pushing it back to him.

“…It’s fine. You won it fair and square.”

“No, I mean it. You can have it,” Will repeated, his voice more earnest.

He placed the giant plush in Eleven’s grasp, earning a bright smile from the girl. She squeezed the plush mushroom closer to her chest, the giant stuffed toy almost covering half her face.

“Thank you, Will.”

Will smiled back at her.

To Eleven’s surprise, she found herself quickly growing fond of Will. She barely knew the guy but she quickly picked up his polite and good-natured mannerisms. He was soft-spoken, laid-back, and non-judgmental. Regardless of what Mike was going through, she kept asking to herself: how could someone as good-natured as Will be best friends with him?  He was everything that Mike wasn’t, or so Eleven assumed. Whatever preconceived notions she had about Byers due to him hanging out with someone like Mike were long gone.

Their silence was interrupted when they saw Max quickly sprinting towards them, right after her other friends left. Will looked back and forth between both of the girls; he quickly assumed that to be the friend Eleven mentioned earlier.

“Oh yeah, Will. This is Max,” Eleven said, gesturing to the redhead.

Max was still a little taken aback, she still didn’t know what to make of this. It was a strange chance encounter, especially in a very crowded venue with hundreds of people in attendance. There was also the fact that Eleven flung grape juice at his best friend a few days ago – now they were supposedly cool with each other.

“Hi Max,” Will did a little wave to her. To his own surprise, he wasn’t too uncomfortable.

“…Hello, Will,” She said back, her voice surprisingly meek. She once again remembered what time it was, causing her to glance back at Eleven, “El, it’s 8:30! Hopper is waiting for us at the front.”

“Oh–” Her eyes widened. _Time went by fast._  She looked at Will and cleared her throat, a sudden coyness coming about. She was so awkward with goodbyes like this, “W-we have to go.”

“Okay, see you at school, El.”

“See you, Will,” She said, “Thanks for the fun time.”

He nodded, trying to refrain from grinning too big at her genuine voice. It was nice to hear he made a part of her day.

“Yeah, thanks for keeping my friend busy,” Max said, her voice bold; she placed an arm around Eleven’s back, “She’s easily bored without my presence.”

Eleven playfully shoved Max’s arm from her back, due to her usual bantering.

With that, they left the area, Eleven giving Will one more last wave before he did the same.

 

\-------

“He seems…nice.”

Max’s voice was unsure at the last word.

“He _is_ nice,” Eleven shrugged.

“Nice enough to not mind you insulting his best friend in front of the whole lunchroom,” She said, “You surprise me every day, El.”

They continued to make their way towards the exit of the county fair.

 

\------

 

Will looked at the bench beside him.

There stood the giant red mushroom plush. It took him a moment to realize Eleven forgot to take it with her. He looked through the large crowds ahead of him, immediately losing sight of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOooo yet another longer chapter. How did this one go??
> 
> As mentioned in the comments before Will and Eleven WON'T develop feelings for each other; they become really good friends. Their friendship is going to be interesting to write in future chapters.


	7. Father Figure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a long one...

**Sunday…**  
  


“Steve, this is El. The person I told you about.”

Max gestured to Eleven, the latter standing in place next to her. She looked a little timid, but that was expected of someone who was going to apply for their first job. The guy who she referred to as ‘Steve’ stood in front of them. He was a college aged male with an average height, thick brown hair that was neatly styled.

He was clearly in uniform, a black polo top with bakery name Led Zeppoli’s neatly sewed on it, below that was his name tag, the name Steve printed on it. Max gave Eleven a gentle tap on the back, silently gesturing her friend to introduce herself in front of the guy.

 “…That’s not the applicant I pictured,” He said, before Eleven could speak, “Not when you described her to me a few days ago.”

Eleven raised her eyebrows.

“What did you picture then?” The redhead said, feigning ignorance.

Steve eyed Eleven up and down. She was dressed up in a cream colored two piece skirt suit that Max let her borrow after the other girl gave up on insisting that her regular school clothes were fine. Max shared Eleven’s animosity against the business-casual dress code for open-interviews in non-office settings. She too, thought that having to get dolled-up for an interview at a bakery of all places was ridiculous.

“Not another teenager,” He shrugged.

“Oh come on, you haven’t even given her a chance yet,” Max said, her casual vocabulary giving off the impression that she was comfortable keeping her guard down with her boss. Steve didn’t seem to mind. They might have been close enough to do that.

“How old are you?” Steve suddenly asked Eleven.

“I’m fifteen,” She said, her voice small. She thought he had an intimidating presence. Her uneasiness was compounded by him most likely hyper-judging her as a prospective employee.

“Exactly, she’s your age. Which means I have to schedule her with less work hours for her on weekdays,” Steve said, noting that it was required by law to not let 14 or 15 year olds work past 3 hours per day…on school days, “You were an exception cause you’re the only employee under 16 and you have great work ethic.”

Eleven was quite taken aback by his blunt honesty, but she would try her best not to let that get to her.

“El’s a very hard worker too!” Max exclaimed, fully aware of her best friend’s natural work ethic, “She won’t disappoint you. Besides, we can both cover full shifts on the weekends. You barely have people working in the front on those days.”

The older male crossed his arms. He thought about this for a short second. He was on a shortage of employees who worked at the counter, especially on weekends.

“Okay, fine,” He finally said, noticing Eleven’s sudden relieved and excited demeanor, “You can apply. On one condition-”

“Thank you! I won’t let you down, Steve-”

“Hold on, let me finish,” He interrupted, then he looked down at Max, “I’ve never seen someone so young this enthusiastic about getting a job before.”

Max gave him a blustering smile, silently telling him that she ‘told him so’.

“Keep in mind that I don’t go easy on younger applicants, just because they’re young. You’re going to have to give it your all if you want to have a chance at getting the front-counter position,” Steve continued.

“I understand,” Eleven nodded.  

“Good, let’s get started then.”

 

\-----

 

The next day, Mike firmly pushed open his bedroom door, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He quickly went down the stairs, not bothering to double check his appearance. His dark hair was haphazardly disheveled with the edges sticking out, the dark blue sweater he wore was wrinkled, and his dark circles were noticeable.

All because his stupid alarm didn’t go off. Now he only had minutes to get to school for something important he, with the help of his friends, had planned for weeks.

His steps were loud and quick as he rushed through the main hallway to head out of the spacious house.

“…Mike?”

His little sister’s soft voice stopped him. He took a few steps back until he was beside the entrance that led towards one of the living rooms. Through the opened double doors, he could see the six year old aimlessly walk around, almost bumping into a couch beside her. Strands of her straight blond hair and an arm were sticking out of a green blouse she wore, her head completely stuck inside of it. Mike sighed, also noticing that her shoelaces were poorly tied, the jumbled knots on the verge of coming apart.

He went inside the living room, before placing either of his hands on her shoulders, stopping the girl from moving anymore. He attempted to push her arm back into the blouse while pulling the article of clothing away from it. The boy knitted his brows together, her arm wouldn’t budge.

“Mike, it won’t go down,” The little girl cried, her voice muffled under the fabric of the clothing.

“Hold on, I’m trying,” He impatiently said. Next he tried pulling the blouse down so her head could pop through. That didn’t work either, “How did you even put this top on? You’re literally stuck in it, Holly.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Holly exclaimed, her voice more panicked, “Mom put it on backwards so I tried putting it on again and it got stuck!”

“Where is she?” Mike asked, realizing she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The house was noticeably quiet since he woke up. He just didn’t notice until now.

Holly only gave him a shrug, the limp sleeve of the blouse moving alongside her.

“She left somewhere before I could ask her to help.”

The boy groaned, his hand suddenly plastered on his forehead. His frustration and derision were rapidly creeping up on him. His mom seemed to disappear at moments when they needed her the most.

“You have to wait for her; I’m supposed to be out of the house by now,” He said, trying to keep calm, “I’m going to be late-”

His voice came to an abrupt stop when he saw his father standing at the other doorway of the room.

He could only blink, seeing the man in a full suit, a suitcase beside him in hand. Mike habitually scrutinized his father’s expression – it was conceivably a judgmental one, his dark eyes almost glowering at his son’s crouching form. The boy kept his hands extended towards Holly’s blouse, his stance almost frozen. He wasn’t expecting his dad to be here on this day; he thought the man wouldn’t be coming home until later this week.

“Where are you off to so early?”

Mike noted those were Mr. Wheeler’s first words to him since he badly stained that suit on _that_ day. The boy ignored the unambiguously tense air between them and answered normally.

“I’m turning in forms for an A.V club pitch.”

Assuming that his father was done talking to him, Mike diverted his attention back to Holly. He suddenly yanked down his sister’s blouse, briefly smiling when her head popped out of it.

Holly didn’t return the smile. Instead, she kept her wide eyed expression – her stare glued onto her father who stood several feet away from them. When Mike was about to attempt to place her arm through the other sleeve a second time, Holly quickly turned heel and left the living room, her untied shoelaces dithering back and forth. The dark-haired male blankly stared at the door his sister left through, not one bit of bemusement on his face – as if the peculiar behavior exhibited by the girl was a normal occurrence.

“You have to cancel it,” The father said after a rather long silence, ignoring Holly’s action.

Mike stood upwards, his face twisting into an incredulous frown.

“No–,” The boy stopped, before rephrasing his words, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Today’s the deadline for presenting after-school club ideas,” He replied, “After that, they won’t accept any more forms.”

A month before the start sophomore year, Mike suggested he and his friends revive their A.V club ventures from middle school by making it a recognized club in their high school. It was a long-standing passion of his and being a sophomore came with the privilege of being able to create an officially recognized and permanent school club.

It had taken a little more than a month for the four boys to plan everything – from general ideas to the specifics and it was nearing the middle of October which meant the deadline to submit and present a speech to the club commissioner was on this very Monday. Mike made it his responsibly to turn the final draft of his pitch in. If that didn’t happen, the months-long work he and his friends poured into their project would be all for nothing.

“Aren’t your JSA and NSLC applications more important than all of these distracting side-hobbies of yours?”  

How could he forget about _those_? He had already finished a couple others a while back and he wanted to take a break from those grueling applications, so he didn’t think the additional ones would be a big deal now…he was wrong.

Mr. Wheeler made sure to bring up applications for a plethora of summer political science and law programs he pushed onto his son – every time they talked or rather the sparse occasions they spoke to each other. After all, Mike was initially pressured and eventually coerced into following his father’s successful footsteps – they had to prepare him as early as possible.

“I spent the entire night finishing it,” Mike replied, his irritability rising. The boy nearly pulled an all-nighter on Sunday - finishing the form, organizing the papers, and then falling asleep when the clock hit 4:30 A.M. He got a measly three hours and 15 minutes of sleep, waking up at 7:45 instead of the scheduled 7:20 he set his apparently broken alarm to.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re wasting your time with such insignificant garbage that won’t matter in the future,” Ted shook his head, “I keep telling you, Mike, and you won’t listen.”  

“I told my friends I was going to be the one to turn the final draft of this in, so they’re all counting on me,” He retorted, his edginess quickly growing.

“Well, it’ll take less time to tell your friends that you cancelled than it did for you staying up all night finishing that project.”

Mike was left silent for a short moment, his face contorting into one of disbelief.  

“But Dad-”

“I thought you’d come to your senses before I flew back, but you keep proving me wrong. You continue spending time with those boys and surrounding yourself with uncouth people who demean people like us,” He cut his son off, “I keep saying private school is better for you, that its better for you to surround yourself with kids that are actually cultured. It’s a shame there’s none close enough here.”

“So you don’t like me hanging out with them anymore?” Mike said, trying his best to keep his anger under wraps. He didn’t want this to end badly as his father had been giving him the cold shoulder for a while now.

“I never did, to be honest. I only put up with them. They’re distractions to your wellbeing. I notice when you close yourself off to them, you’re more focused and diligent. You don’t act up nearly as much. Those boys are part of the problem and they have been for a while.”

His jaw twitched. He hated the malice in his father’s voice when it came to nearly anything had interest in or favored. If it wasn’t something strictly lined up with his father’s ambitions, the man would be quick to devalue those interests. Dungeons and Dragons – Bad, his ventures to the Palace arcade – Bad, video games – Bad, and his desire to start a high school A.V club – Bad. Fortunately, Mike didn’t put his hobbies to rest but he was often torn between those and at least partial support from his father which he continuously tried to get.

“They’re not distracting me from anything. What I did had nothing to do with them…I messed up last week and I tried apologizing for that, but you didn’t want to speak to me.”

“No, it wasn’t just last week that you messed up. It was the week before that _and_ then week before that…there doesn’t seem to be a time you don’t mess up these days,” He continued. Mike didn’t recall doing anything too upsetting during those past weeks, but the dark-haired boy listened as his father went into another digression, basically him nitpicking any perceived faults of his and blowing them out of proportion. This was how a lot of his conversations ended with his father if he crossed him in the slightest bit but he wanted to please his dad. As the months passed that was getting exponentially harder to do. His father held onto the rope, pulling it up by a few inches when Mike was on the verge of reaching it.

“…You’re lucky I’m talking to you right now, Mike.”

Mike had noted his father flew back all the way to D.C, last Wednesday. He had tried calling his office number, but he purposely hung up whenever he’d hear Mike’s voice on the other end. His father was a flaky and irritable man, most of that coming with the stress of his arduous occupation which included his campaign for reelection.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” He said after a long silence.

“No.”

“That’s what you should do instead so you don’t starve yourself before lunch.”

He hesitated, before passing his father to the door. He was in pummeled into defeat by his father…again; he was unable to start his A.V club. It wasn’t like he could call either of his friends to do the pitch instead of him. They were all asleep at this time and it would have been too late for them to wake up and run to school by the time they got ready.

Before he could leave the living room, his father spoke again.

“Hold on a second.”

Mike stopped.

“Give me your bag.” His voice was emotionless.

The dark-haired boy un-slung the bag from his shoulder before walking to his father and handing it to him. Mike watched as he zipped the bag open, sorting through all of the notebooks, inconspicuous folders, and papers, until he found a folder with the words ‘Audiovisual Club – Blueprint’ written on it. Mr. Wheeler pulled it out, unintentionally yet carelessly, dropping Mike’s backpack on the ground.

The father used both of his hands to rip apart the thin folder in half.

Mike remained silent, watching his dad continue to tear the halves together into smaller pieces. Aside from his stiff body language, his rapid heartbeat and his hardened expression told a completely different story.

“You might have a hard time believing it now, but I’m only doing what’s best for you. We’re both doing what’s best for you,” He specified, adding his wife into the equation. His mother was rather absent lately, only trying to ease the overwrought atmosphere of the household by showering her children in gifts and money and then calling it a day. It was temporary fix, but it was a lot easier than addressing the real problems.

After that, Mike simply picked his backpack up and left the room, bypassing his dad through the back door.

 

\------

 

Eleven kept her head low, a dreariness in her that she couldn’t wear off, no matter how hard she tried to this morning. The application and interview process for Led Zeppoli’s was rather grueling; that Harrington guy did take pride in being stuffy. There didn’t seem to be a lot of people applying for the particular position Eleven wanted…or were bakeries usually this hard on applicants? She was so sleepy. Splashes of ice-cold water on her face or a cup of dark coffee she poured out from Hopper’s coffee pitcher didn’t do the trick. At least she’d find out whether or not she got the position on Tuesday.

“Ah!” Eleven suddenly yelped.

Will had jumped off from a short brick boundary wall and right in front of her. Eleven was startled, unaware of his presence prior to now. He carried the giant red mushroom plush in both arms, it partially hiding his face.

“Sorry,” He said, unable to suppress his emerging grin. He held up the mushroom plush, “You forgot this.”

Eleven’s shocked face suddenly lit up to one with a smile. A soft chuckle managed to escape her lips when Will handed it back to her.

“You left it on the bench before you left with your friend,” He said, “I lost you guys before I could notice.”

“It’s okay, it’s my fault for forgetting,” Eleven said, “You brought it to school with you, just to give it back to me, so thank you.”

Eleven’s line of sight traveled from Will to the area he was sitting up on prior. He was alone, without his friends, the only thing occupying him was a dark Pentallic sketchbook and prisma color pencils neatly tucked inside their original packaging. The sketchbook was opened to a page where an array of red and pink flowers were neatly sketched in what was supposed to be a field, the green colored stems indicating that. The colors were vibrant and shaded in carefully, smooth transitions from darker to lighter based on where the sun was supposedly hitting them. Will was most likely adding the finishing touches to this sketch before he’d head inside.

“Tulips?”

Eleven suddenly blurted out that word. She had recognized the single type of flower Will had drawn on that page.

“Yeah,” The boy nodded, edging his sketchbook so Eleven could get a better look, “I saw a huge field of them, at the Botanical garden…all different colors of the rainbow, so I had to draw some of them. They’re such wonderful flowers.”

Eleven was too enthralled to say anything. She carefully took in all of the details and patience Will poured in to that very realistic drawing.

“They look a lot better in person though,” He continued, “My drawings can only capture so much.”

He absently flipped through his sketchbook, the next page showing another field tulips – all of them white this time, whether or not he had any intention to color those in, she wasn’t sure.

“These are really good, Will,” Eleven said, she looked at him, “You’re a really good artist.”

His lips tugged into a genuine smile as he bashfully kept his eyes glued onto the book next to him. He always got a lot of praises on his art, Mike and his mother being his biggest enthusiasts, but every time someone paid him a compliment he still became so flustered. Those compliments meant a lot to him as he was often self-doubting in his ability.

“…Thank you.”

The brunette took one more look at the ‘white’ tulips.

“What colors are those ones supposed to be?” 

“Oh, these?” Will asked, fully facing the page with the ‘white’ tulips. Eleven nodded.

“I’m not coloring those ones in. Those are supposed to be white,” He continued, “…I find the white ones to be really special.”

“Why?” Eleven asked. She thought white quite plain compared to the vibrant colors of other tulip varieties.

“They stand for forgiveness.”

 

\------

 

Mike didn’t want to go to school early just to wait outside of his classroom for ages before the teacher would come. Instead, he decided to ride his bike around the areas near the school grounds, to get some much needed fresh air to calm his nerves down. 

When that didn’t work, he rode his bike alone to his school’s phone booth to call either one of his friends to relay the bad news onto them about their much desired A.V club. He rang Dustin’s number first – he didn’t pick up so he probably just woke up and his mom didn’t pick it up for some unforeseeable reason. Shortly after, he rang up Lucas’ number.

Luckily he was already getting ready for school so he picked up.

That was when he told him or rather a half-truth of what happened.

“My alarm didn’t ring so I woke up five minutes before the actual deadline,” He had said.

To his luck, Lucas bought his lie – but he was gravely disappointed. This was a plan they had in store for months, Mike being mostly responsible while the other three boys frequently pitched in, so his disappointment was understandable. He didn’t want to imagine the disappointment in Dustin’s face either…or Will’s. Crushing their long-awaited dream for a real A.V club in high school meant letting his friends down. It was unfair to them.  

When he heard his friend hang up, he immediately slammed the phone back into the holder. He briefly paused, hearing the distant noises of chattering students arriving to school grounds.

After calming down, the boy sighed. He closed his eyes and leant against the wall of the phone booth, placing his forehead against the cool surface. 

When he emerged out of the payphone booth to head inside the school building, he stopped for a moment when he saw something strange at the corner of his sight. Something really strange.

He saw Will sitting up on a low bridge wall, a bright and lively expression on his face…his normally reserved demeanor suddenly outgoing and talkative. He had his sketchbook held open in front of him and he seemed to be talking about his art – so that explained his sudden bout of easiness. But that wasn’t it.

It was the person he was currently talking to.

Mike frowned when he saw Eleven standing in front of him, laughing at something apparently funny Will said.

He slightly hid himself, continuing to peek out from the side at a faraway distance as he stared at the two in utter confusion. Why was he speaking to her? Why did they look so friendly? Was there something he didn’t catch? A billion questions seemed to run through his mind.

He watched Eleven give Will a cute little hand wave before the girl headed inside the building.

 

\------

 

Eleven was actually the first in her Algebra class – a complete contrast from her first day in school. She glanced at all the empty desks before deciding to take a seat at the back. She was all smiles when she placed the giant plush mushroom on her desk before sitting down. She rested the side of her cheek on her hand, quickly going into a daydream. She recounting the interesting conversation she had with Will and the wonderful weekend she had. It was quite honestly going to be one of the most memorable moments in her life.

“A Dash mushroom. That’s adorable.”

Eleven almost jumped out of her seat when she saw Mike slide into the one next to hers.

She gritted her teeth. _Damn it._ Why he was nonchalantly speaking to her was absolutely mystifying, especially after that incident. Did this guy not have any conscious?

For Mike, there were a lot of things he wanted to know, so it took him a while to muster up enough courage to speak to Eleven after being humiliated by her days ago, much to his shame. Will, unfortunately, wasn’t anywhere to be found after he left the area too. Plus, he was keeping a distance from Mike ever since that incident in the lunchroom…so they barely spoke since then.

When she saw Mike about to fidget with the tag of the stuffed toy, she immediately took the giant plush out of his grasp, placing it under her desk. She proceeded to ignore him by staring ahead at the T.V that was left on by the teacher – who wasn’t in the room at the moment.

“What were you guys talking about?” Mike ignored her dismissive body language.

“What?” Eleven said, looking back at him.

Mike was taken aback by the glare on her face. She was confused, but she framed her tone of voice in a taciturn manner that would intimidate him. Her light brown eyes were cold, her eyebrows were downturned, and she was tightlipped. 

Mike was left mute for a few seconds, nervously trying to gather up the right words to say so he seemingly wouldn’t mess up in front of her. Damn it, he hated the ability this girl had to make him crumble.  

“You and Will,” He answered, almost stumbling on his speech, “I found– I saw you guys outside.”

He nearly cringed inside. Why did he care so much about his delivery of words to her?

Eleven was left surprised for a moment, but she returned to her stony expression.

“Why is that any of your business?”

“He’s my best friend,” Mike said, his voice clearer.

“It’s nothing you need to know about, so don’t talk to me,” Eleven retorted.

When Eleven was about to gather her backpack and plush to go sit in another seat, one that was far away from Mike. He spoke up again.

“Are you still mad about what happened last week? I didn’t cause you to get that detention,” Mike said, he recounted his very heated conversation with his father in the car last week and then the one he just had with him today, “You helped me miss an important reception I had to go to, by the way.”

She scoffed in disbelief.

“You are such a self-important asshole.”

“…I haven’t heard that one before,” Mike sarcastically said, his voice quieter.

“And that says a lot about you,” She added, “If you don’t know why _anyone_ would be angry at you after what you did then you’re a lost cause.”

She stood up from her desk picking up her backpack and the plush, struggling to carry the latter. She sat down in another desk, further away from mike. In turn, Mike moved up from the desk he sat in and once again sat adjacent to Eleven.

“Okay, what do you want me to apologize for?” Mike said, without thinking, “Just say it and I’ll apologize.”

_Unbelievable._

“That’s not how it works, Michael,” She said his full name in a snooty tone. The slightest bit of desperation she picked up from his voice was astronomically pitiful to her.

“Tell me how it works then, _Jane_.”

Eleven gritted her teeth. They both looked at each other, her mostly glaring daggers at him.

“You’re so unbearable. I don’t know how Will puts up with you,” She said.

“That’s all?” He said, egging her on.

“No, I’m not finished,” Eleven retorted, “You’re incredibly smug for someone with such a nasty personality, you walk around thinking you own this place, you go around treating defenseless people like crap because you know you can get away with it, and your entire presence is annoying.”

She briefly thought she might have gone too far, but after recalling last Monday she instantly dismissed that thought.

They were unaware that their faces were inches away from each other since they were so heated in their argument. Eleven immediately pulled away and got up from her seat. She, once again, moved to another seat – leaving Mike silent. He sat there, unmoving. This was the third time this girl outwitted him.

 

\------

 

**_Tuesday…_ **

****

Eleven had the T.V on at full blast, her knees to her chest as she was watching Halloween. It was the perfect activity to do, especially since it was nearing the actual holiday. It was change from the grueling schoolwork Hopper made her finish before she was allowed to satiate her craving for T.V, especially since she had a lack of it during the past few days. She briefly heard the phone ring before Hopper stood up to answer it.

She lowered the volume of the T.V, curious to see who it was exactly.

“El, it’s for you!”

She grabbed the phone from Hopper’s grasp.

“Hello?” She answered, waiting for the other person to answer. Hopper briefly eyed Eleven before leaving her presence. The girl had a pretty good idea of what this phone call was supposed to be about so she clutched the edge of the phone, in anticipation to hear what the person’s next words would be.

“You got the job, Jane.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo how did I write Ted's and Mike's interaction? I'm trying to add piece by piece of their whole dynamic instead of spilling everything out at once. 
> 
> P.S: I can't fjhdashdksjhdk wait to start on chapter 9 and 10 - that's when it begins. (I don't wanna say too much cause I'm afraid I'll accidentally give out spoilers to important plotlines.) Chapter 8 I'm nearly done with.


	8. The Bard and the Ranger

“…Jesus, this guy is more spaced out than someone who OD’ed on MDMA,” Dustin spoke in a hushed voice.

“What’s he looking at?” Lucas’ voice matched his.

Both of their eyes were on Mike who sat in front of them. Unlike the other students, his head was facing a different direction, his prominent brown eyes not glued onto the numbers of the board as the teacher lectured the class with that content, but instead on something else.

“I wish I could be as clueless as you, Lucas,” Dustin said. Lucas shoved him on the shoulder, almost causing the curly haired boy to tip sideways from his seat, “What the hell was that for? I’m just surprised you haven’t caught on by now!”  

“Shh!” Lucas hushed him, glancing at teacher with much paranoia, hoping to god she didn’t notice that. He looked back at Dustin, “Just tell me.”

Dustin pointed to Eleven who sat in the front corner of the room, far away from them. The girl was completely immersed in the subject matter. He then pointed to Mike who was staring straight at her.

The brunette glanced down at her paper, scribbling down notes as she absently twirled a ringlet of hair around her finger that had fallen out of the barrette that previously held it in place. The dark-haired boy found himself doing this at the most sporadic of times during class. Whenever Eleven took her eyes off the board to occasionally glance towards her periphery, he instantly tore his eyes off of her and would look down at his desk or stare ahead at the board. Unfortunately, Dustin easily picked up on Mike’s habitual behavior over the past two weeks.

“Oh…” Lucas said. When he did think about it, Mike did seem fixated on that girl although he never outwardly admitted it. It was something he kept silent, that only manifesting itself as an occasional staring game.

Dustin motioned his friend to get closer in which Lucas did.

“I’ve never seen him like this before. Honestly, I think his fascination with her turned into something else,” He said, in a quieter voice, making sure no one would hear. After a short pause he continued, “Lucas, this might sound a little far-fetched when I say what I’m about to say, but I think there’s some truth to it. I think…I think he has a little crush on her.”

Lucas immediately backed away, a completely revolted grimace appearing on his face.

“You’re insane!” He exclaimed.

Everyone in the class stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards him, a bit disturbed from his sudden outburst.

“Mr. Sinclair!” The teacher exclaimed. This was definitely a regular occurrence in class.

“S-sorry,” He said, his embarrassment shooting up.

 

\-------

 

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Everyone eagerly packed up their stuff and flew out of the door, glad another day of Algebra II was over. Way behind Will and Mike, who were on better terms, Dustin caught up to Lucas who kept a head start. 

“Think about it Lucas. When was the last time another girl stood her ground against him like this?” Dustin said, continuing their conversation.

“…His older sister.”

“Besides his older sister,” The shorter rolled his eyes, “There’s not a single person, let alone girl, who has injured his pride as far as she has. They don’t have the courage to do it because they know who he is and the type of family he comes from. Either that or they generally avoid him.”

“You’re reaching. That doesn’t even hint at anything!” Lucas said, quickly growing frustrated with his friend.

“Okay, well– you know he’s an entire mess when it comes to girls he likes. He doesn’t stop bringing them up at the most irrelevant times…like that time when he kept badgering me about her being friends with Will…when he and Will weren’t talking much. He has that shell-shocked look on his face when he sees them and he literally _cannot_ look away, for the life of him. That’s exactly what’s going on, but with Jane,” Dustin continued, “And did you see him just…clam up when she confronted him all those weeks ago? He _never_ does that with anyone, unless it’s his father…or guess what? A girl he likes.”    

“You talk too much,” Lucas said, walking ahead of him, “There’s no way he’d like a girl who hates his guts.”

“Fine, go ahead and ignore all the points I made!” Dustin exclaimed, seeing the other boy walk fast to catch up with Will and Mike.

 

\------

 

Within the kitchen of Led’s, Eleven was sweeping down the floor of the space. It was past nighttime on a Sunday, which meant work wasn’t as busy. From the opened swing door, she could see Max leaning against the front counter – her eyes concentrated on some show playing on the small T.V installed next to the ceiling. She looked entirely bored, as they didn’t have much costumers to serve during this time of day.

The more introverted Eleven actually preferred it this way. She actually thought cleaning the tables and floors was therapeutic when they didn’t have to attend to costumers. Meanwhile, Steve was inside the office room, probably making calls to order items that were nearly out of stock, according to his latest inventory check.

It was a change from the busier three hour weekday-spurts and eight hour Saturdays she had – as evidenced from the hectic week and half she has worked in the bakery since getting the job and going through mandatory employee training.

Max flinched, nearly stumbling when she heard the brief but loud shopkeeper’s bell ring.

She nearly did a double take when she saw Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair walk in. Her lips were slightly parted and her bright blue eyes were unblinking. Her immediate first question… _what were they doing here?_

She saw them eyeing their surroundings, taking in the quaint and neatly decorated interior of the bakery. Max briefly looked to the back of her, seeing Eleven fully concentrated in getting the kitchen space clean and unaware of the two boys’ entrance.

Max had no idea what to make of this. She remembered Eleven inviting Will to the bakery a few days ago for something to eat, but it was still surprising to see those two. She had never interacted with either of them. In fact she wasn’t very fond of them because of negative talk she overheard being said about them during school…and the fact that they hung out with Mike Wheeler. Were they here because of Eleven? There was no way they happened to stumble across this bakery out of pure coincidence. Led Zeppeli’s wasn’t exactly the most popular hot-spot in Hawkins…when it came to bakeries, at least. It was one of those places where most of the costumers were regulars that shared a familial-like bond with the employees.

“…is this where she works?”

Max’s assumption was right when she heard those words come out of Dustin’s mouth. Lucas quietly answered his friend. Compared to Dustin, he looked a little stiff – like he was made to come to this place with the other boy. Unfortunately, Max couldn’t properly hear him since they stood right at the front door.

The redhead gave them a bemused stare when they made their way towards the counter.

“Are you guys stalking Jane?” She blurted out, her blunt temperament taking over. She might as well get to the point in a quick fashion instead taking forever to do so.

“No, we came in here just for you,” Dustin answered.

Max pulled her part of her mouth into a half scowl, unamused by his joke.

Lucas shoved Dustin at what he thought was another one of his disconcerting attempts at flirting. The other quickly shoved him back. Max rolled her eyes; these two boys were exactly the dorks she imagined them to be.

“…Sorry about him, he’s always annoying,” Lucas said, giving Max a nervous smile. Dustin simply scoffed. They saw the redhead give them a sideways purse of the lips; she was clearly waiting for them to give her an explanation. Lucas clearly sunk under this girl’s judging stare; there was really something so intimidating about her.

“Will came here a while back so he told us where she worked, when Dustin over here asked him,” Lucas said, pointing to his friend. There was shame in voice, “He just forced me to come along with him.”

Dustin _did_ make a very much reluctant Lucas come along.

“There’s no harm in getting an extra two costumers. We wanted to test the waters of bakeries around here and Will had a lot of good things to say about this place, mostly cause Jane works here,” Dustin added.

“So you guys _are_ stalkers,” Max said, doubling down on her assumption.  

Dustin only shrugged. Lucas was instantly humiliated, suddenly unable to look the redhead in the eye.

“What’s going on–” Eleven came out of the kitchen, broom in hand. She stopped when she saw Lucas and Dustin, “…what are you guys doing here?”

Like Max, she too was utterly confused by their presence. A myriad of questions flew through her head.

“That’s not how we treat our customers, El!” Steve called out from the office room, able to hear Eleven’s louder voice. 

“El?” Dustin raised his eyebrows, causing Lucas to shrug in question.

Eleven sighed through her nose, a bit peeved at her manager putting her on the spot like this.

“Okay, what would you guys like?” Max asked, taking initiative.  

Dustin readily looked at the large display case that was adjacent to the front counter.  Lucas followed, making sure to steal a few glances at the redhead. Eleven stood beside her friend, broom still in hand, as she closely examined the boys. She couldn’t find anything menacing about them since they were harmlessly peering at the assorted and colorful desserts neatly organized on each shelf.

Max and Eleven briefly looked at each other, the two girls befuddled at this entire situation.

“One piece of the chocolate pudding dump cake and a cheese Danish,” Dustin spoke up.

“What about you?” Max asked, gesturing to Lucas.

“Two of the red-velvet cupcakes,” He said.

“Do you want the cheese Danish heated up?” Max asked Dustin.

“Yeah, that’d be perfect,” Dustin replied.

With that, Eleven went back into the kitchen to get the food items they ordered.

 

\-----

 

While Eleven was busy in the kitchen, Max suddenly removed herself from the clerk counter and sat down across from the boys, startling Dustin and creating a more flustered Lucas. They saw the judgmental stare she kept, which was especially magnified in her eyes – as if she was ready to throw them a speed round of questions to see what kind of people they were.

“Okay, be honest you guys. What’s the actual reason for you coming to this place?” Max asked.

It was silent between the three for a moment.

“He wants to get to know El, since Mike and Will have become so involved with her,” Lucas interrupted Dustin, the other about ready to say something, “After we get our food, w-we can leave if you want to.”

Dustin briefly gave Lucas a dirty look.

“No, it’s fine, you stalkers can stay,” Max shook her head, “We’re not legally allowed to kick you out anyways since you technically haven’t done anything wrong yet.”

Dustin laughed at that.

“This place is pretty snazzy,” The curly-haired boy said, taking another look at the small dining area they sat in. The mahogany squared-shaped tables and Monaco chairs surrounding them made up the area which was adjacent to the bakery counter. It added to the classic feel of the eatery.

“You think so?” Max said, “Steve will appreciate your kind words.”

“What about the other employees? Are you the only two working?” Lucas curiously asked, noticing the emptiness within the bakery.

“The other counterperson clocked out early, so we decided to take extra time…more money for me and El,” Max replied, “She likes being called El, by the way, rather than Jane.”

“We’ll try to remember that,” Dustin said.

“You better,” Max said. When she heard a scuffle from behind them, she turned around, seeing Eleven come out from the employee door, their desserts in hand. The brunette placed the tray of desserts on the table, causing Dustin to look at the food-items in awe. He immediately grabbed the square shaped cupcake liner that the pudding-dump cake was neatly placed in before picking some off to taste.

“Woah this is actually really good,” The curly-haired boy said, taking another bite, “Do you guys actually make these yourself?”

“I wish,” The red-head replied, “We have bakers to do that for us. They come here really early…at like 5:00 in the morning to do all of the preparation for that and leave around the afternoon when they’re finished for that day’s set of desserts.”

They went on ahead to eat, Max continuing to converse with them, only running up to the counter when the occasional costumer would come in. Eleven would join in from time to time, as she was mostly occupied with sweeping around the place. The brunette hated to admit it, but she quickly came to tolerate these guys. They were admittedly funny, albeit dorky at times, but they made her laugh. They also managed to get on the good side of the normally apprehensive Max who would stubbornly say otherwise if anyone tried to point that out to her.

Eleven’s observant nature of other people often made her pick up on small particulars that others would easily miss. One of them was Lucas’ sudden change in behavior when him and his friend were interrogated by Max and even after that. The brunette often took him as a confident person, which he normally was. While Dustin was cracking around his usual jokes, he was unusually nervous around the girl, as if he needed to carefully phrase his words in order to prove something to her.  

“What are you guys doing after this?” Max suddenly asked.

“We’re going to the Palace…the arcade nearby,” Lucas replied, “That’s like our frequenting spot.”

Max’s blue eyes widened, her whole face lighting up.

“No way. I go there all the time too!” She said, surprise in her voice. She never saw those boys during her long ventures at the arcade. When she wasn’t working or doing whatever else, she’d spend an upwards of several hours over there, “What games do you play?”

The two boys looked at each other, shocked for a moment. Aside from a few occurrences, they hardly saw girls frequent the arcade.

“Right now we’re playing Gauntlet and Commando. They just installed Metroid and Super Mario, so we’re pretty much going to spend the rest of the night doing that,” Lucas spoke up, “We would pull all-nighters and skip school tomorrow entirely if Keith kept the arcade open overnight.”

“What’s your guys’ highest score on Commando?” Max asked.

Eleven smiled to herself as the three enthusiastically went on about said arcade game. She was amused at the sudden shift at the conversation topic and the fact that Max was able to find common ground so quickly with two guys she wasn’t a huge fan of – her judgements mostly propagated by rumors she had heard during school.

“Mines was somewhere around 19,000,” Lucas proudly said. That was enough to rank fourth place.

Dustin let out a scoff of disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s a total lie,” Dustin quickly retorted, “I remembering scoring higher than you and I got exactly 15,101.”

“No, that’s before I played an extra round after you and Mike left that day! And I actually beat my last record of 14,921.”

“You’re such a liar,” The curly-haired boy rolled his eyes, “You would have said that exact score number right off the bat if you knew. Oh, and you would have bragged about it to me earlier too. You’re just trying to impress Max over here, aren’t you?”

“No! I’m not!” Lucas exclaimed, his embarrassment growing. He ignored the amused smirk that Max gave him.

“That’s hardly impressive. My highest was 30,021,” She said, a proud smile forming on her features. The two boys could only give her slack-jawed expressions. That was easily twice their scores.

“What about you, El?”

“Oh, she’s not an arcade type of person. She’s only ever been there twice with me,” Max answered Dustin.

“Yeah, I usually just watch Max play when I’m there,” She added, “I’d be happy to watch a tournament between you guys…that would be fun.”

“Hey, that’s actually a great idea,” Lucas replied.

“And watch Max eviscerate us? No thanks,” Dustin said, his injured pride more evident than ever.

Eleven drowned out their bickering voices once again, Dustin adamantly refusing to compete with Max because he thought it would be ‘unfair’ and Lucas insisting he do. Eleven would interject, usually telling the others to calm down. She took notice of how well their personalities mingled.  Dustin was outgoing and boisterous, often competing with Max’s level of outgoingness. Lucas was well, but to a lesser degree - he was more or less the voice of reason. With their animated conversation, time flew by fast. Before they knew it, it was 10:00 P.M, or closing time.

“Well, that was fun,” Dustin said, approaching the front door.

Max stood by the door, ready to send the other two boys off. Dustin gave her a wide hand wave before leaving through the entrance. Instead of deciding to leave with simple one-worded ‘bye’, Lucas stopped. Max looked back at him, waiting for the boy to say something.

“Y-you guys make great red-velvet cakes,” Lucas spoke up, nervous, “Those were really good.”

“They must be, you’re nearly speechless from how good they are,” Max said, noting his sudden coyness.

Lucas laughed at this.

“I changed my mind; you guys are always welcome to come back,” Max said, “Only cause you’re a bit more bearable than your friend.”

“I heard that!” Dustin exclaimed from outside.

They both refocused their attention on each other.

“Let’s hold a competition at the Palace some time. You and me, on Commando,” Lucas suddenly said. He stopped, realizing his overly assertive wording of that request. He quickly stammered on his next sentence, “T-that is if y-you want to, no pressure.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” Max joked, “You really think you can beat me?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, his confidence and competitiveness coming back, “I’m pretty sure you were just lucky that time.”

Max gave him an amused laugh at, more so at his sudden newfound confidence.

“It’s on, Lucas,” She said.

Eleven took her attention off of the other two when she saw Steve emerge out of the kitchen.

“Make it fast, shitheads. I have to close this store for the night,” The manager said.  

“Okay, Mom,” Max said in a mocking tone.

Max proceeded to wave outside to the two boys.

“See you later, stalkers!” She yelled out as Eleven joined to wave to them as well.

After that, they proceeded to clock out as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some love for Lucas and Dustin - and some foundation for the Lumax in this story! How did I do on their interactions??
> 
> Next two chapters is when things begin to get spicy. I hope you guys like long chapters cause chapter 10 is going to be really long (and probably my longest one yet, just a heads up).


	9. In Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is real short but this is "In preparation" for Chapter 10 which is going to be reaaaaally long compared to the others. I'm either going to post chapter 10 tomorrow or on Monday so be on the look out!

“Hold on a second, Mike. I’ll be right back,” Will said, after nudging the sleeve of his friend’s sweater. Before Mike could say anything, he saw Will dart towards Eleven who had just emerged out of her class.

He backed up, staying close to the wall so he wouldn’t block the way of oncoming students in the crowded hallway. He tried to keep his sight on anything else – the chatty students that were chattier than usual, the ambling students, students packing up for the weekend, and teachers trying to control the chaos throughout the area – but that proved to be an instant failure. His sight eventually drifted onto Will who was immediately striking up a conversation with the girl.

He wasn’t against their friendship at all. In fact, he was glad Will had found someone aside from him, Dustin, or Lucas that he was able to let his guard down with. The more people the timid and normally closed-off boy talked to, the better. He only wanted the best for Will. But he was still flabbergasted that it had to be ‘Jane’ of all people…which unfortunately only heightened his interest in her.

And he hated feeling this way.

 

\-----

 

“Are you still confused on the complex numbers practice problems?” Eleven quickly assumed. Will had badgered her for help during their entire class period after being introduced to a tricky unit having to do with imaginary numbers.

“No, it’s not that, I think I got the hang of it…for the most part,” Will said, he pulled up what looked to be like an invitation from his jean pocket. He unfolded the paper before handing it over to Eleven.

“What’s that?” Eleven asked, glancing at the invitation.

“An open invitation,” Will replied, “There’s this huge fancy birthday part on Saturday for our superintendent and he’s inviting everyone in our school.”

Eleven was well aware of that. She had heard the endless talk about the lavish birthday celebration which was apparently being hosted by Ted Wheeler. According to what people said, the senator and the superintendent, aside from their professional affiliations, were very close friends. With Ted Wheeler’s and the superintendent’s credentials, that meant a fancy, lavish celebration where other important people would be invited as well.

The biased Eleven wanted to glance at the invitation with distaste, but when she flipped over the invitation, she saw a picture of the venue the party was supposed to take place in. She did a double take at the grandeur of the place. Affluent people really took their parties seriously, as evidenced by the appearance of what was supposed to be the Reed Ballroom. It was remarkable.  

But she quickly wondered, what would she do at a party like that? Look out of place? Have judging eyes gaze down at her? No, thanks. She only saw a glimpse of the venue on the sophisticated invitation paper, but it already intimidated her.

“I can’t,” Eleven shook her head, “I wouldn’t feel right being at a party like that.”

Will’s cheery demeanor slightly dwindled – mostly at the sudden discomfort that Eleven felt. It seemed as if he really wanted the other to come.

“Really? You think so?” The boy said, surprised at her admission.

The brunette nodded.

“All you need is something fancy to wear and you’ll blend in fine,” Will shrugged, “It won’t be too bad.”

She shook her head again. She didn’t have work that day so she could technically go, but the unfamiliar atmosphere of such parties overwhelmed her. She almost felt guilty when she saw Will’s happy expression change into one of disappointment. Will obviously enjoyed her company and occasionally hung out with her outside of school during the past few weeks, so there bound to be at least a twinge of disappointment at her not coming.

“Tell me how it goes when it’s over,” Eleven spoke up.

“Yeah, of course,” Will said, his voice light as he was attempting to hide his bummed appearance.

Afterwards, the two went their separate ways. Eleven briefly watched Will catch up to Mike before the two headed further down the hallway.

 

\-----

 

“Oh my god, you have to go!”

“I told you, Max. That’s not happening,” Eleven retorted, beginning to get annoyed by her friend’s persistence. She watched the redhead hand two familiar costumers their change of money – an old but loquacious married couple who came to the bakery every day.

The redhead waved them off after they took what they ordered. She leaned against the counter, peeved at her friend’s adamant refusal.

“Come on, El. Minus your outfit, it’s free for all high school students who go to school in this district. You literally get to go to one of those spiffy rich people parties for free – not to mention there’s free food, free refreshments, and free gifts they give out to the people they invite.”

With much exasperation, Eleven groaned out loud. She thought the other girl was way too enthusiastic about this for her own good. Free food and drinks, particularly fancy and obscure dishes that would take a huge chunk of her allowance if she actually paid for them, didn’t sound too bad – especially for someone with an adventurous appetite like hers. But there was no way she could go.

“If you want to go so badly, just cancel your plans with your mom,” Eleven finally said.

“You know I’d do that if I could,” Max said, “I sure as hell don’t want to visit my brother, but there’s no way she’ll let me bail. Plus, I want to know what these rich people functions are like and this is probably the closest I’ll ever get to knowing.”

“Then ask Lucas or Dustin instead, I’m 100% sure they’re going,” Eleven said in a plain voice, her feelings about this whole topic unchanging.

Max rolled her eyes; she really wasn’t going to change her friend’s mind.

“Fine, but you’re going to miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Max sighed, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“The Reed ballroom?”

Steve snatched the invitation paper that was in Max’s grasp, startling the other two who were unaware of his presence until now.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Max exclaimed. Steve ignored Max’s loud voice and continued to look at the invitation in interest. A lot of interest, actually. She crossed her arms, continuing to glance at Steve who was skimming through the invitation, before answering, “Yes, the Reed Ballroom.”

“It doesn’t get any more VIP than this,” The brown-haired male finally said, handing the paper back to Max.

“You’ve been there before?” Eleven asked.

“No, but my old friend catered over there for an actor’s wedding reception. A bunch of different A-listers attended that party and he literally would not shut up about how “glamorous” the entire setting was,” The other said.

“How glamorous was it?”

“Glamorous enough,” Steve replied to Eleven. He went on to describe his friend’s experience at the Reed ballroom, Max carefully listened in while Eleven was growing more and more enthralled by it, much to her chagrin.

Eleven was rather fascinated by Steve’s rather descriptive explanation of the venue and all of the perks that came with going to an upscale party. It would be nice to experience one luxurious night at a hotspot that A-listers and many other famous people frequent. Maybe it was something she couldn’t pass up, maybe she’d actually have a fun and memorable time. Her thoughts were interrupted by Max softly nudging her on the side.

“Fine, fine! I’ll go!” Eleven suddenly exclaimed, pushing Max’s elbow away from her, “Only because Steve managed to describe the place so well.”

Max squealed clasping her hands together. Eleven almost rolled her eyes at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“See? I knew you’d come through.”

“…But if this party ends up being crummy. I’m blaming it on you,” Eleven said.

“Okay, fair enough,” Max said.

 “How do you dress up for these events exactly?” Eleven, her glance accidently traveling to Steve.

“Do I look like I know?” The manager said.

“Actually, yes you do, Mr. I use Farrah-Fawcett Spray,” Max retorted, earning an affronted look from Steve.

“This one, this one has a funny mouth,” Steve pointed to Max before leaving back to the office room. Eleven shook her head, almost grinning as she tried not to giggle at the defeated Steve.

 

\-----

 

As the week was approaching, Eleven’s excitement about the party was gradually increasing. It was quite unexpected since she initially had no enthusiasm to go to such a ceremony. But with that excitement, came a lot of concern – the unfamiliar atmosphere of attendants, the exact outfit she would decide to wear, and whether or not people would overly scrutinize her in such a setting. She thought those were such insignificant issues to get worked up over, but she couldn’t control those burgeoning feelings of hers.

Though, Will’s excitement about her changing her mind brought her comfort level back…momentarily, until the anxiousness took over again.

Hopper was more than okay letting Eleven go, although he made sure to remind Eleven his thoughts on how the frivolities that came with such a party were unnecessary. The girl was too busy planning on what outfit she should buy, what exactly she would do to her hair, and….makeup to worry about that. A little bit of the stress was taken off when she realized Max would pitch in some of her paycheck to help since she was the one who pushed Eleven to go in the first place.

 

\------

 

“How does it look?”

Max swiveled Eleven’s seat around, until the girl was facing the mirror.

“I’m not that good at doing this, but I tried,” The redhead continued.

Eleven’s face was shocked as she looked at her reflection. She had to admit, for someone who was apathetic towards makeup because she thought the whole process of putting it on was tedious, Max did quite an impressive job on her.

“It looks great,” Eleven said, giving her friend a thumbs up.

Her eyes trailed off to the dress that hung beside her closet door, the price tag of the garment still in place. The girl looked back at the mirror.

She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S: El's whole look will be revealed next chapter.


	10. Not As Planned

Eleven kept fidgeting with her clammy hands before finally resting them on her lap. Her eyes were glued through the taxi window, waiting for the taxi driver to arrive to their destination – the Reed Ballroom. The lavish area was where the ceremony and party were going to take place at. Never being to one of these functions only encouraged her creeping anxiety, but like Max said – it was going to be a memorable and very lavish experience for her and she’d get to experience it for free.

The brunette watched as the taxi she sat in made a left turn.

She could see bright streetlights light up the venue. In front was a very spacious field with neatly mowed grass and carefully carved bushes that bordered the sidewalk. What Eleven noticed next made her entire face go pale, she saw a rather large and tall building, floor and wall lights illuminating its presence. Arch shaped windows decorated the front, with square shaped entrances as it went further down. She could see other attendees, heading inside the building through the way of the sidewalk.

When Eleven was dropped off, she carefully took the in the sight before following them to the main entrance which most likely led to the actual party venue.

Through the main entrance she could see men dressed in black tailcoats, accepting the people who had proper invitations on them.

The minute she stepped foot inside, she froze, seeing the marvelous sight ahead of her. The main foyer was moderately lit up, a single large chandelier from the ceiling. Slight tints of purple light escaped the edges of the walls and between three arched shaped balconies, the center one leading to a spiral shaped flight of stairs. Circular shaped tables with covered half of the large foyer, some of the invitees sitting down and chatting amongst each other – formal wear and all. The people attending were very diverse – ranging from adults and families who were specially invited to students who were invited through the open invitation.

It wasn’t as animated as Eleven thought it would be, with loud and boisterous music. It was more professional and dignified…which was kind of expected since this _was_ a party thrown for someone professional.

Her sight landed on Mike who stood at a corner far from her. The boy was clearly occupied, him being introduced to a group of people, while an older man with glasses stood beside him – presumably his father. Nearby, Will, Lucas, and Dustin were talking amongst themselves. They all looked fairly dapper in their black suits, Will being the exception as he was wearing a cream white one.

For a momentary second, she wanted to turn heel and leave, the atmosphere almost unapproachable to her. She looked just as dolled up as the other attendees of the party, but she felt her edginess made her stick out from the others who easily looked relaxed. Adding to that, there was no one else she knew here aside from the four boys…god did she wish Max was with her. She’d make her feel a lot more at ease, possibly by making wisecracking statements at the ostentatious formality of this setting.

Eleven walked further inside, deciding there was no turning back. She saw a few tables full of food dishes. That was one of the few things she came here for – to try out some “rich people food”.

 

\------

 

Mike absolutely hated these ceremonies.

He would much rather be at a different place at this very moment – most likely the Palace or in his basement brainstorming a comprehensive and fresh story for a new D&D campaign. Instead, here he was getting introduced to district school board members, people who couldn’t care less about him if he wasn’t Ted Wheeler’s son.

Beside him, Mr. Wheeler was eagerly shaking the hands of those people, the senator falsely boasting about his son while the people throw sycophantic compliments about his re-election campaign. It felt very artificial to Mike. Half of the self-aggrandizements that came out of his father’s mouth were either exaggerated or plainly not true as his father always badmouthed him behind closed doors, rarely offering genuine compliments, if ever. Ted only wanted to say such things to save face, to make himself appear as a great family man who raised “perfect” children. It was a foolproof method – one of the many strategies he uses that helps him lead the polls. Some of the board members, in turn, would throw the typical ‘I wish my children were more like you, you seem so well-adjusted!’ or ‘no wonder your father appreciates you so much’ or even questions like ‘are you going to take after your father and hold some form of public office?’.

God, he fucking hated this.                             

It showed on his face, a downtrodden expression glued onto it, his smile not reaching his eyes whenever he was introduced to someone new.

When that was over, he walked over to his friends – a wave of relief outpouring him.

“Hey, Mike you know what this is?” Dustin asked, holding up a small plate of light brown circular shaped slices with toasted baguette slices on the sides. He pointed to the light-brown for emphasis.

“…If you didn’t know what it was, why did you get it?” Will asked, minutes after Dustin had emerged from the food area.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him a million times,” Lucas added, “He gets something from that table, he asks what it is, he eats it, and then he spits it out and throws the entire plate away.”

“I’m trying to broaden my horizons by trying out obscure food items. It just so happens most of them here taste like crap,” Dustin retorted.

“Honestly, that’s probably a better alternative than the both of you trying to flirt up the entire female presence in this ballroom,” Will said, immediately having a change of heart. He gave them a teasing smile with a shrug when he saw Dustin’s and Lucas’ clearly offended faces.

“That was Dustin’s entire doing…for the most part! I only tried picking up-”

Mike instantly drowned out their voices when he saw Eleven near the main entrance. It felt as if time was suddenly put on hold when he saw her distinct presence. His throat felt dry, his pupils were dilated, and his pulse was suddenly beating at a faster rhythm. 

The girl wore a burgundy knee length dress, the top off-shouldered with partial sleeves and shaped into a V-neck. The side had a sash detail which lie over the billowy and wider end of the dress – burgundy flats to match. Her hair was styled into a short up-do, a burgundy red peony flower clip keeping it in place.

She walked slow as she entered, a nervous and almost overwhelmed look on her face. Mike saw Eleven carefully observing the lavish area; she was noticeably taken aback by its grandeur.

“…There he goes again.”

Dustin saw Mike’s familiar wide eyes and parted lips as his sight was permanently glued onto Eleven’s presence. Lucas and Will took notice of this as well.

He snapped out of his reverie, when he felt Lucas nudge at his shoulder.

“What?” Mike blinked, looking back at his friends.

“You literally can’t keep your eyes off of her,” Dustin said, he quickly gave Lucas a ‘See? I told you’ face.

“Who?” The dark-haired boy feigned cluelessness, his embarrassment present.

“Jane, of course! C’mon, dude, you’re so obvious,” The curly-haired boy said, pointing to the girl who was heading towards the food table. Mike was mortified at this point, but he kept stealing glances at Eleven.

“I’m surprised she’d come to an event like this,” Lucas added.

“Same, she looks really nice though,” Dustin replied, to which Will agreed to.

Mike returned to keeping his stare glued onto the girl when he saw another guy he knew from his school approach her.

 

\-----

 

The brunette saw an assortment of plates and food warmers of dishes ranging from hors d'oeuvres appetizers to main dishes such as Coq Au Vin that spanned two of the long tables. On another table varieties of non-alcoholic drinks were neatly lined up. She had no idea what any of these dishes were called nor did she recognize them, but they did look appetizing and she was hungry.

As Eleven was ready to grab a plate, a voice interrupted her.

“Hey, there.”

She whipped her head around, almost disturbed by the voice’s sudden presence. It belonged to an unfamiliar boy of her age, most likely someone who went to her school or a school at a nearby district. He had an evocative smirk on his face, his expression matching his tone of voice. Eleven was usually good at making inferences of someone’s character from their initial body language and facial expressions…the initial impression she got from this guy was that he was bad news.

But Eleven couldn’t let those assumptions of hers get in the way too much and be dismissive at a time like this, maybe she’d be wrong and he’d actually strike up a genuine conversation.

“Hi?” She said, it coming off as more of a question. Gosh, she could be so awkward.

He took a step closer towards her, causing Eleven to want to instinctively take a smaller step back. But she didn’t, she just stood glued in her current position, her legs unmoving.

“You’re gorgeous, has anyone ever told you that?” He said, his smirk becoming a small, suggestive grin.

“Um…thanks,” Eleven shyly said. Maybe she should have tried sounding more enthusiastic, but she couldn’t bring herself to sound that way about his comment. The way he said it was just…leery and suspicious, she couldn’t put it any other way. The girl turned around, reaching for a plate.

“I didn’t know the police chief’s daughter could clean up so well. You make the other girls in our school look like bimbos in comparison,” He continued, his derogatory sayings making Eleven more tense.

Okay, so her initial suspicions were right.

The back of her hairs were raised when she felt him walk closer. She immediately turned around, facing him, her hand tight on the plate she held. Her worried face changed into a tight frown.

“Go away,” She plainly said, maybe he’d take the hint and go.

The guy scoffed, a forced chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re really going to brush me off that quickly? We’ve barely even spoken.”

Eleven tried walking towards the other end of table to get away from this guy, but he quickly bounded in front of her – blocking her way.

“Come on, tell me your name at least, and I’ll tell you mines,” He said, which caused Eleven’s aggravated frown to deepen.

The brunette turned around again, this time walking at a faster pace away from the guy. That was when she felt his hand on tight her small wrist. She dropped the plate on impulse as she spun around, trying to remove the guy’s grip off of her.

“Get off of me!” She exclaimed.

“Jesus, this one’s a little feisty,” The guy said, clearly amused at her expense.

 

\------

 

Mike could see all of that unfold before him. He saw the guy try to corner Eleven as the brunette tried to remove herself from his presence, he saw the guy forcefully grab her by the arm – not letting go, despite Eleven’s efforts.

He felt himself take a step forward, but he suddenly stopped when he saw Will bypass him.

 

\------

 

“I said, let go!” She said, in a more threatening voice. She tried to wring her arm out of his tight grasp, but he wouldn’t budge. His sneering smile was bigger, his amusement more apparent.

“Not until you calm down.”

Eleven brought her hand up and tried to forcefully pry his fingers off, the guy only chuckling as her attempts were futile. That’s when the brunette balled her hand up into a fist and ungracefully punched him in the jaw.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, clutching the side of his face in pain. Eleven bit her lip, her hand aching from the force of that punch. She didn’t think her hit on him was too hard…

He was fuming.

“Son of a bi-”

“Leave her alone, Troy.”

Eleven turned around at the sound of the soft voice. It was Will, who had stopped across from them. His voice was shaky and he sounded the furthest thing from confident, but he couldn’t continue to watch that meathead harass her.

“Why are you so concerned, Byers?” ‘Troy’ sneered, “Don’t you fags normally swing the other way?”

Eleven could see the instant regret etched on Will’s face, the boy almost retreating to his timid nature.

“Not so bold now, huh?” Troy said, bypassing Eleven and walking closer to the meek Will. Before Eleven could do anything, she saw the taller boy shove Will on the shoulder. The brown-haired boy’s brazen stare dwindled into a fearful one, his eyes upset and lips tight. It was clear that the boy was made very upset by the jibe the other added – one that he was very familiar with.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Troy taunted, shoving Will on the shoulder again.

The anger in his voice was tantamount to Will’s own anger – but the latter was just better at hiding it – some of it coming in the form of watery hazel eyes.  That was what compelled Eleven to step up and push aside Troy’s arm.

“Why don’t you take the hint and go away??” She said, regaining her composure. Troy momentarily gave the brunette a frightening glare, staring the girl down. Eleven, however, didn’t back down. She stood in between the two boys, unable to stay still as Will was in his sudden disheartened state.

“Yeah, I thought so. Dumbass queer can’t even fend for himself,” Troy ignored Eleven’s words, staring straight down at Will, “Needs a girl to do the job for him.”

Will stifled a gasp when he saw Mike come their way. Not long after, Eleven noticed this too. She frowned, looking between the two boys – the tension between them higher than ever.

“Oh would you look at that, half the freak-show’s here,” The boy scowl, his attention fixated on Mike who had just arrived, “Hey, Wheeler why don’t you take that little faggot of yours to the bathroom and shag him over there. It might help with his repressed feelings for you.”

 

“Don’t _ever_ call him that again,” Mike said, his voice firm. His anger practically radiated off of him.

Troy simply sneered, basking in all of the attention that on-looking people were giving them. The other three were too preoccupied with Troy’s hankering to look for a fight to notice the disgusted and surprised stares the others were giving him. Will was still behind Eleven, tightlipped and humiliated at this turn of events. Meanwhile Eleven was ping-ponging her gaze between the other two boys, who were currently giving each other death glares.

“…Wait, does your stuffy father not allow you to fuck guys?”

Troy’s head suddenly jerked sideways. Before he could react, he felt himself being tackled downwards. He was taken aback seeing the looming Mike about to land another punch on him.

“Mike, stop!” He could hear Will’s voice muddled among the loud panicked voices of the party-goers among them. He ignored this, he was more concerned with ‘teaching Troy a lesson’.

Troy instantly blocked Mike’s fists before getting an upper hand. He brought his unpinned arm and shot it up towards Mike, hitting him square on the face. With that blow, Troy pushed himself upwards, pinning the other boy to the ground. The larger of the two brought his fists back and punched Mike, side to side with either of his fists – trying to steal in as much hits as possible.

Mike attempted to block his hits by hiding his face with his own arms, but Troy used his strength to quickly push them away before he could do that.

“Hey, hey, hey! That’s enough you guys!” Two security men came barreling towards them. He and the other forcefully pulled Troy away from Mike.

Eleven’s face paled seeing the state of Mike’s face, newly-forming bruises and cuts covering it. Ahead of her, Lucas and Dustin pushed aside the surrounding crowds to help Mike up alongside Will. She could hear them profusely throw words of concern towards the injured Mike, the latter brushing it off – his attention more or less focused on Will whose hazel eyes were glossy.

“I’ll be escorting you out,” The man said, gesturing to Troy. Surprisingly, Troy didn’t object, but he quickly flipped off Mike before the man ushered him out. Mike’s eyebrows were lowered; he had a terrifying glare glued onto the boy as he watched him leave the building.

“You too, can leave,” The other security guard said, gesturing towards Mike.

“Can we at least get a first-aid kit?” Dustin asked, annoyance in his voice.

“Yes, after your friend leaves,” The man said. Dustin and Lucas proceeded to give him aggravated looks.

“Are any of you coming to pick it up?” He said, when he wasn’t receiving a response from the others.

_I’ll go._

“I’ll go.”

Eleven didn’t mean for those words to come out of her mouth.

The others, particularly Mike, were a little startled at her words. Her eyes suddenly darted towards the table area – only to have numerous of the other attendees stare back at what unfolded before them. She shifted her eyes back onto the ground, absently picking at a loose thread from her purse. _Why the hell did I say that?_ Was it out of mercy for Will? For some unfathomable reason, she felt guilt for not being able to defend Will from that person. Instead Mike had to come and do that, only for his face to get jacked up.

After Lucas told Eleven they were headed to the back patio, she was told to follow the security man to a storage room where they stored those kits. Before the scattered groups of attendees, she briefly caught a glimpse of the man she assumed was Mike’s father. He had a callous expression on his face which spoke volumes, his eyes dark behind his glasses and his mouth set in a hard line. Her body nearly stiffened from how strong his glower was – a very stark resemblance to the look Mike gave her when she crashed into him in the hallway all those weeks ago on her first day of school. The man was unmoving from his spot, him among the endlessly astonished guests.

He didn’t seem to be concerned about his son’s wellbeing after the boy nearly got punched to death, he just stared in…disgust. In a ‘how dare my son taint my reputation in this very special party I hosted?’ type of disgust.  

Before she followed the man to get the kit, she briefly looked back at the boys who were quickly heading out through one of the back doors.

 

\-----

 

Eleven stopped in her tracks when she saw Will and Mike sitting side by side on a stone patio bench. The two boys were already in the middle of a deep conversation. That was apparent by Will, looking up, a deadlocked stare on his friend as he was listening to the other. The brown-haired boy was still visibly upset by Troy’s disparaging words, his brows knitted and his lips in a slight frown.  

With the first aid-kid still in in hand, she stealthily hid behind a thick pole. Her shoulders were parallel to it, to stay as hidden as possible.

She had no idea why she had the sudden urge to overhear what was probably a very personal conversation between them, but her curiosity superseded all common sense.

“…I swear to god if that mouth breather Troy ever says those words again I’ll-”

“You’ll do nothing.”

Mike raised his eyebrows, surprised by Will’s interruption; his voice was firm. The shorter boy sniffed, trying to remove the stuffiness out of his nose.

“Mike, you don’t have to go fight people every time this happens.”

“So I should just let him keep calling you those names?” Mike retorted, his hands tightening against the edge of the seat, “He’s not going to take the hint if someone doesn’t beat his ass.”

“You don’t see your face right now?” Will said, positioning his body so he could fully face Mike, “There’s bruises _covering_ it. He’s the one who always manages to get a leg up and you’re always the one who gets beat up. Just learn to ignore him.”

 _…So Will getting called those names by that particular person was a regular occurrence._   Eleven frowned, clutching the first aid kit tighter.

Mike sighed, his head lowered. There was a looming sadness that was previously masked by all of the anger he felt. His onslaught of nervousness was added to the mix which was the sudden fidgetiness of his hands and his leg bouncing up and down. Will continued to look at Mike, confusion etched on his features.

“…Will-”

Will raised his eyebrows, his confused more pronounced by Mike’s abrupt stop.

“Will, I don’t like…” Mike’s voice was weak. From a few feet away, Eleven was taken aback by how vulnerable and distressed his voice sounded. She had never seen him sound that way so it came as a surprise to her.  He continued, after hesitating a second time, “…I don’t like it when he calls you those words, I don’t like it when anyone calls you those words. I know how upset it makes you.”

Will felt his eyes well up once more. He blinked several times before fully opening them.

“I-I know,” He felt a pang in his chest, it being hard to get those words out. He regained his composure, “But you don’t have to worry about me all the time. I’ll be okay, Mike.”

There was less emotion in Will’s voice, but it was firm. Will knew he was going to okay. This night would pass and a new day would come – before then, Will would quickly be over it. Until some other asshole would come along and call him such names.

“Are you sure?” The other said.

“Yes,” Will said, he smiled – insisting that Mike take his words for granted. When he saw the still downtrodden Mike, he spoke again, “Hey, before you know it, they’ll be much less people like him in the near future and more people who’ll come to accept people like me.”

Will’s smile grew brighter when he saw the small one that came from Mike. The shorter boy was triumphant as the gloomy air between them mostly disappeared.

“I’m going to take a little walk,” Will said, “ –to clear my head out a bit.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Mike said.

He gave Will a reassuring pat on the back before the other boy got up from the bench and out of the patio area. Eleven bit the side of her cheek, her stare back on Mike after Will was out of their sight. She was quite admittedly incredulous to see Mike act…like this. It was inevitable since he and Will probably knew each other for a very long time, but it still came as a surprise to her. At school Mike was either moody, smug, sarcastic, or flippant – mostly a mixture of the four. It was strange to see him be so protective and concerned.

As she was still in a daydream, Eleven suddenly felt the first-aid kit she loosely held onto slip out of her fingers.

“Shit!” She whisper-shouted.

Before she could do anything, the box and all of the contents fell on the floor, creating a loud enough noise. Loud enough that Mike turned his head around to see Eleven crouching over it, frantically picking up all of the items.

Mike immediately got up from his seat to help her. She looked up at him, seeing the boy busy picking up the first aid kit materials and placing them in the box. The boy was quiet, his hunched over form causing his bangs to hide his bruises from plain view. Eleven’s palms were sweaty, discomfiture present on her features. She clammed up when Mike caught her staring attentively at him.  

“What?” He said. All of the first-aid items were already in the box.

“Nothing,” She quickly said, tearing her gaze off of him. She picked up the kit before they both stood up simultaneously. She held out the closed kit box, “…I-I got the first-aid kit.”

“I didn’t notice.”

Eleven narrowed her eyes, her nervousness quickly turning into annoyance at his sarcastic quip. He, of course, wasn’t helping her uneasy psyche at all. He was only adding to it.

Mike took the first-aid kid from her grasp before sitting back down on the bench. He placed the kit beside him and re-opened it, looking for the appropriate supplies to use for his face. Eleven watched as Mike cluelessly scavenged through the kit, before taking out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and gauze pads. The brunette grimaced before quickly heading over to where he was.

“You don’t use that on your face. It’s going to irritate your skin,” Eleven said. She raised her brows when Mike gave her a ticked off poker-face. She guessed her voice accidently came off as rude since she was so used to speaking towards him in such a manner.

“Then how do I disinfect them?” Mike asked, his cluelessness persistent. _Has he ever not done this before?_

Eleven went over to the opened kit that sat next to Mike before rummaging through it. She still stood up, purposely not seating herself next to the boy. Seconds later, she pulled out a small tube of Neosporin. She dropped it in Mike’s lap.

Mike frowned at her flippant action before picking it up. He rummaged through the kit, trying to find something else.

“There’s no tiny mirror that comes with this?” He mumbled, “…How am I going to see all of my cuts and bruises?”

Eleven sighed, he really was clueless.

“Just let me do it for you.”

Her eyes became wide. She was surprised by the sudden onslaught of words that came out of her mouth. This was the second time this night too. Mike was clearly surprised as well, at the fact that she just offered to help him with such a task…or any task in general. But for some reason, he couldn’t complain.

“Okay.”

The brunette frowned, his nonchalant one-word answer confusing. She couldn’t believe what she was getting herself into.

 

\-----

 

They sat sideways, inches apart on the bench. Eleven tried keeping her distance, but that was hard to do in such a situation like this, so she just gave up, only to become a nervous wreck. Her hands were a little shaky as she was trying her damned hardest not to make any missteps. Much to Eleven’s surprise, it was completely silent between the two as she attended to his wounds – most of them having a healthy applying of Neosporin, occasional band aids placed over the larger ones.

Eleven’s eyes trailed down to one of the cuts she had yet to attend to. It was a moderate sized one the side of his chin. She swallowed, squeezing a bit of the disinfectant on a gauze before applying it.

Her eyes loomed on his chin area which eventually trailed up to his lips. Her breath hitched when she could have sworn they curved upwards into a small smile.

“Will is fond of you.”

“Stop talking,” Eleven quickly said, the minute Mike spoke up. Her knee-jerk reaction was a little bit surprising, even to her. He closed his mouth before she continued applying the cream on his chin.

 _Will, fond of me?_ That was nice for her to hear, even from Mike. She found him interesting and unlike many people in terms of personality, so it was nice to know he looked up to her, in a way. Because of her natural fondness for him, she couldn’t help but to worry for him. He was really secretive so she was unaware of his sexuality and she was also unaware he got relentlessly bullied for it, until now. What worried her even more was that it happened on the regular. Will was such a pleasant person to her and to everyone around him, he didn’t deserve any of this.

“Why’d you come to this party?” Mike suddenly asked, changing the subject and breaking her out of her reverie, “You don’t seem like the type of person who cares for functions like these.”

Mike kept his eyes on Eleven, watching her squeeze some more of the Neosporin onto yet another cotton ball. He closely examined her, her face deep in concentration. He noticed the light dusting of foundation and blush on her clear skin, the red eyeshadow that decorated her down-turned eyelids, and her bright red matte lipstick, and the large peony flower clip on the side of her up-do.

He didn’t catch himself smiling.

“I thought it would be interesting,” She finally said, her eyes still facing downward.

 

His smile faded away.

“…These types of parties are the furthest things from interesting. It’s like a business function, where you’re always put on the spot…and forced to meet people who judge your every move, so you have to bullshit your way around it by lying about all your-”

“I told you to stop talking,” Eleven interrupted, “It might go into your mouth.”

Mike stopped talking, his eyes suddenly downwards as she finished applying the Neosporin. If he looked at her anymore, his heartbeat might explode. She placed all of the supplies back in the first aid kit before closing it. There was an awkward silence, neither of the two knowing what to say exactly. Eleven could easily get up and leave since she was done with her work; she didn’t expect Mike to thank her anyways. Instead, her burgeoning concern about Will took over.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Will?” Mike asked.

She nodded.

Mike hesitated, a little confounded that she was continuing to talk to him. He continued looking ahead at the decorative lights that lined the patio that they were in.

“I don’t know,” He replied, a sadness in his voice, “He doesn’t want me or anyone else to get involved, so I have to take his word when he says he is. I can’t do that, though. I hate seeing him get hurt.”

_If only he showed that type of kindness and understanding towards everyone else._

“I don’t like admitting this, but that was…good what you did there,” Eleven coyly said, “S-standing up for Will.”

Mike could have sworn he felt his cheeks heat up. He suddenly looked away from Eleven.

“The bar is set so low,” He regained his composure, “Of course I’d do that for him, any decent person would.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to do that,” She shrugged. _…considering how you act like in school._

“Of course you didn’t,” Mike replied, “He’s like a younger brother to me and I’d never let anyone hurt him.”

Eleven frowned.

“So you don’t have that amount of energy to treat others with the same amount of decency you treat him?” She spouted out, referring to Will. She didn’t know what came over her, but the hypocrisy she just saw come out of him astounded her, “…What makes you any different from the bullies like Troy?”

Mike momentarily felt uncomfortable, particularly at her last sentence. He plucked at the cuff of his suit. To his surprise, he didn’t have any retort to that. But he did have something he had kept entirely to himself during the past few weeks.

“I apologized to that person.”

“What?” Eleven raised her eyebrows, a little confused.

“A few days after you decorated my suit with grape juice,” He reiterated, “I felt bad, after coming to my senses.”

Eleven was surprised, but quickly calmed herself down.

“Oh.”

Mike let out an amused puff of the nose at her one word answer. It didn’t sound sour or sarcastic, just monotonous as if what Mike did was the normally expected human thing to do, from anyone. She maybe expected more from him, like a full on confession on how he learned about the error of his ways.

“Will must be steering you in the right direction then.”

“There hasn’t been a time when he hasn’t tried to,” Mike replied, “He’s always the one that keeps me, Dustin, and occasionally Lucas in line. He makes sure to brag about it to us all the time.”

 _The humble Will, bragging?_ That was something she never saw.

“I’m not surprised– I mean, at the first two sentences you said. He’s the sanest out of all of you guys,” Eleven said, trying to refrain from grinning at his offended look, “…How long have you all known each other for?”

“I met Lucas in the 2nd grade and I met Dustin after he moved here during the 4th grade,” He replied, “…Will I’ve known since the first day of kindergarten. He’s actually my first friend, so we all go way back.”

Were they actually having a conversation? One that didn’t involve both of them throwing insults or giving each other malicious attitudes? Eleven almost wanted to pinch herself, but she kept herself from doing that.

“No one gets us as much as we do each other. We have so much in common. Whatever problem one of us has faced, at least another one of us has faced it as well, family issues, bullies-”  

“Mouthbreathers like Troy?” Eleven said a little too quickly.

Mike pressed his brows together, recollecting the particular vocabulary he used to describe that boy.

“So you _were_ snooping in on our conversation,” He said. He had a lingering suspicion she was hiding somewhere during his conversation with Will.

“What? No I wasn’t!” She shot up from her seat. Eleven _never_ lied, but this was something too embarrassing to be truthful about. Mike smirked when he noticed the higher pitch in her voice.

“Yeah, you were.”

“N-No I was not!” Her face flushed, the girl doubling down on her lie even though it was hopeless at this point, “Why would I be interested in your personal conversations?”

“Where did ‘mouthbreather’ come from then?” He said; he couldn’t help the teasing grin that creeped up on his features.

Eleven hesitated.

“E-e-everyone uses that word!” She continued fumbling with her speech. She absently looked away from Mike, her hand partially hiding her mouth. This was so embarrassing.

“Tell-tale signs of lying – a red face, frequent stuttering, a change in the pitch of your voice, and…” He briefly pointed to her face. He was clearly smiling now, finding her over-the-top reaction incredibly funny for some reason, “…your hand covering your mouth.”

Eleven instantly removed her hand from her face, firmly placing it beside her. She continued looking away from the other boy, her mortification shooting up.

“Are you done?” She said her humiliation high and irritation present, “I didn’t mean for it to happen; I just came outside at the wrong time, okay?”

She couldn’t believe she was indirectly apologizing for this.

Mike shook his head.

“Its fine,” He said, retreating his smile.

Eleven momentarily twisted her mouth in disbelief at his offhand and brief answer. She almost thought his easygoing reaction to this was strange. Knowing how tight-knit he and the other three were, she would have expected the unapproachable boy to get angry at her for listening in for so long and not bothering to remove herself – but he strangely seemed to let it go.

Eleven fidgeted under Mike’s steady eye contact.

“I’ll take the first aid kit back,” The boy spoke up, using that as an excuse to break the silence. When he was about to extend his hand towards the kit that lie on the seat, the other interrupted.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to go back inside,” Eleven said, her eyes on the back doors that led back into the building.

“Oh, right,” Mike chuckled, a little dumbfounded, “…I didn’t want to go back in anyways.”

He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. Going back inside would mean having to go back to a fuming Ted. He wanted to push his inevitable confrontation with his father as far possible, which also meant he didn’t want to go back home. He easily found a lot of comfort in the absolute silence aside from the occasional drafty but refreshing breeze in the patio. He would much rather stay outside in this exact place until his father miraculously forgot about the altercation he got into. If that took days or even weeks, that was fine with him.

“Why would you offer to take it back then?”

There was a brief hesitation from Mike. Did she always have to be so combative with him?

“I guess it’s cause you did this for me,” He replied, gesturing to the Band-Aids and cared for bruises on his face. He felt a little odd saying that aloud.

The girl felt her heartrate rise up, her hands clammy. She still couldn’t get over the fact they were having an amicable conversation; it was so peculiar and foreign to her. All their past interactions have been nothing but anger, anger, and more anger. It was a good change, but it made her feel all the more weird. She reached over to take the first aid kit, her discomfort resurfacing. Maybe his eyes weren’t on her at this very moment, but she could feel them on her.

She cleared her throat.

“W-Well, um, bye,” She clumsily said, stumbling on her speech. After she turned around to walk back inside the building, she stopped in her tracks, “By the way-”

Mike turned around to face her, her back still to him.

“Try using a bag of frozen lima beans on your bruises. It helps them heal faster.”

The dark-haired boy almost laughed, his lips quirking up in amusement instead. He almost thought she was about to say something very serious and grim from the sound of her voice and her stiff body language. Instead she said _that_.

“Yeah, I’ll try that,” He replied.

“Good,” She said back, her voice solid.

After that, Mike watched her walk back inside, her burgundy dress moving alongside her. His smile faded once the door closed.

Mike turned back around and contemplated the roller-coaster of emotions he just felt. The momentary lapse of happiness and ease he felt the minute Eleven offered to help him was…surreal. He continuously confused himself when he noticed this, the emotions he felt were bizarrely but understandably frustrating.

He couldn’t say it out loud. He didn’t want to say it out loud.

He had a crush on Jane Hopper.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....so how was this incredibly long chapter? I hope it makes up for the really short one I posted yesterday. (and FINALLY some beginnings of Mileven yayayay)
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts on this one.


	11. That Really Just Happened

_I’ve never felt this way before,_

_Don’t wanna wait one second more…_

_Cause every little bit of my heart is true._

_…This is where I belong_

_Can say that every little bit of my heart for you…_

_So long–_

With the press of the power button, Eleven turned off the radio beside her. She laid back on her couch. No more sentimental love songs for today.

The girl suddenly pressed her palms against her forehead. No matter how hard she tried to, she couldn’t rid the invasive thoughts of yesterday’s party. From the moment Hopper picked her up to the moment she woke up and got ready for the new day…that was all she could think about. The fight, the harassment that Will faced, her tending to Mike’s cuts – how she offered to do that still alluded her –, and the somewhat civil conversation she had with him.

Not to mention the other side she saw of the boy – the side which, unfortunately, would only show itself towards a specific set of people. But from what she picked up, he was someone who cared dearly for his friends. She was absolutely befuddled; she wasn’t supposed to view Mike in such a positive light.

What was school going to be like tomorrow? Was the whole dynamic between them going to change? Would Mike take her words to heart and drop his hostile demeanor or were things going to remain the same?

There she went again. These thoughts would forever plague her mind. She didn’t know why she was making such a huge deal over this; school drama wasn’t something she was supposed to stress herself to death about.

She exhaled, letting out a rather over-the-top groan. The girl suddenly rolled over, in attempt to press her face against the cushiony sofa. Instead, she rolled off of it.

“Agh!” She shouted, before landing with a loud thud.

Eleven pressed her teeth together into a painful grimace. The entire right side of her body hurt.

“What was that??” She could hear Hopper’s surprised voice from the other room, “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yes!” She squeaked out, in a pained voice.

“Doesn’t sound like it!”

“I’m fine!” She insisted, her voice firm this time.

For some unforeseeable reason, Eleven continued to lie on her back. Staying in this particular position didn’t seem like too much of a bad idea at this point, at least until she started work in the next couple of hours. Hopefully, it was a busy Sunday. She wanted something to clear her mind out as fast as possible.

 

\-----

 

“Hold on a second, don’t forget your lunch.”

With a very swift motion, Eleven swiped the lunch bag from Hopper before hopping out of the car. She quickly waved to him before picking up her speed. She glanced at her watch.

It was 9:15 on the dot, meaning that class had just started.

She had herself to be blame. It was her persistence with the snooze button causing her to fully wake up late…all because her invasive thoughts kept her awake throughout the nighttime. Hopper, of course, wasn’t happy when he realized she was still fast asleep at a time she usually was supposed to be getting ready at.

She pushed open the front door of the school building and ran within the near empty hallways, keeping a fast enough speed. She made a left turn before seeing the door to her class. She skidded to a stop and took in a deep breath before knocking on the locked door.

This was not the kind of entrance she wanted to make to her Algebra class after last weekend. She momentarily squeezed her eyes shut, her nerves catapulting within her and her persistent heartbeat racing. She instantly opened them back up when she heard the door open from inside. 

“Do you have a late pass?” The teacher asked, standing at the entrance.

“No,” Eleven shamefully said.

The teacher motioned her to come inside. She bit her lip; that meant an unexcused tardy on her record.

She tried ignored the scattered eyes on her, but she couldn’t since looking for an unoccupied seat was what she needed to do at the moment. She immediately hung her head low when she found an empty seat at the back.

Halfway into class, the brunette stealthily stole a peek to her right, where the four boys usually sat. Dustin and Lucas were speaking in very hushed tones, Will nodding as Dustin threw a few words his way. Behind Lucas, Mike’s eyes were glued onto the board. He wasn’t listening in on his friend’s conversation nor did it look like he was listening to the chatty teacher – the boy seemed to be in a daydream of some sorts.

It was Friday, nearly a week after the party. Much to her surprise, she barely spoke to Mike nor did Mike go out of his way to speak to her. He did seem fairly busy during the past week, though – even going as far as to not attend class on a couple of days, and much to her shame, she randomly brought it up one day when Max invited the three others – Will, Lucas, and Dustin – to the bakery. Apparently his absence was due to “family” issues. Why did she care so much all of a sudden?

Eleven’s eyes lingered on Mike’s spaced out form before returning her attention to the teacher. She didn’t want him to catch her staring.

“Now that we’re nearly two months into the school year, I’m going to be assigning a week long group project,” The teacher brought the class back into focus once she added that little tidbit.

It was fairly silent, except for the usual dejected groans.  

“In groups of two you all will use concepts we’ve learned so far in this class and you’ll connect them to real world applications…”

Eleven drowned out the charismatic voice her teacher always used when talking about such time-consuming assignments. She almost felt like dozing off, the lack of rest she got quickly catching up to her. All she wanted to do right now was to go home and resume her sleep with a preferably long nap.

“Before you guys jump out of your desks to choose your groups, I’ll be assigning them.”

“Seriously?” Someone in the class said, annoyance in their voice.

“Yes, seriously,” The teacher said, with as much attitude as the student did, “I let you guys choose your own for most of the in-class assignments.”

The class was silent, waiting for the instructor to continue on.

“I want you all to work with the partner I assigned you with for the third group assignment we did,” The teacher said, only earning a bunch of forgetful glances from the faces in front of her, “…For those who don’t remember, I’m talking about the Calculus assignment…y’know the one that made some of you feel like pulling your hair out.”

Eleven’s heart skipped a beat and she could feel the color on her cheeks flush. She instantly knew what that meant.

“This isn’t an extremely long project, but its best if you start as early as you can because it might be difficult for some of you guys at first,” She continued, “I’ll pass out the guide and rubric and you guys can meet with your group partner to discuss where you’ll meet and how you’ll go about it.”

Eleven nervously shuffled in her seat, she was still really nervous _._ She wasn’t angry at all that she had to work with Mike Wheeler again, she was just plain uneasy for some other strange reason. It was an inexplicable feeling.

 

\------

When Mike saw that Eleven was packed up and just about to leave the classroom, the dark-haired boy rushed to the door. When she raised her head to look ahead, she immediately came to a screeching halt. Mike was right in front of her, the boy partially blocking the door. Her eyes widened, disturbed by his sudden appearance.

She blinked, waiting for the other to say something or at least explain himself for almost giving her a heart attack.

“Are you free on Saturday?” He blurted out, almost cursing himself on how forceful that question came out. He briefly frowned, almost contemplating changing the delivery of his words towards her.  He quickly dismissed those invasive thoughts before continuing, “...I-if you wanted to brainstorm at the library.”

Her mouth twitched. Her feelings were suddenly all over the place, just now remembering the bittersweet note they left off on. They didn’t fight at all…they just talked amicably, for the most part. So there wasn’t any tension between them at the moment. That was an unfamiliar ground set between them…so she wasn’t completely sure on what to say back. No wonder the two of them felt so awkward.

“I’m free,” She muttered those two words.

Mike lowered his shoulders, immediately relaxing. He did have intrusive thoughts about this throughout class before he finally mustered up the courage to approach her and ask that simple question. Eleven could briefly see the corner of his lip rising upwards before Mike stopped himself from going into a full-blown smile. To him, it was just a school project…it was nothing to smile about.

“Okay, good,” He said, “Meet me at Clay Street’s intersection, 4:00 sharp. There’s this really good diner nearby. It’s on 2nd street, the one near Mulberry; it shouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“Mike–”

She stopped when she saw Mike quickly turn around and leave. The brunette was left stricken and completely confused by his abrupt leave as he didn’t even let her speak. Before she could think about catching up with him in the hallway to ask what that was all about, he was nowhere to be seen – him blending in with the crowds of other students.  

 

\------

 

Mike didn’t realize where he was going exactly until he abruptly opened the door to one of the single-stall school bathrooms. He leaned towards the sink, his hands on either end of it as he looked at his own reflection. He furrowed his brows, perplexed and taken aback by his reddened face.

Did he just indirectly ask her out to eat with him?

Yes, yes he did.

The boy flicked the faucet on and left the water running for a few seconds before he threw the ice cold water onto his face.

…And that was before he stormed off into the hallway before she could even get one word in.

 Mike groaned and leaned against the wall. He furiously tousled his thick locks of raven hair before keeping his both of his hands on either side his head.

“Fuck…I’m such an idiot.”

 

\-----

Once Eleven left the school building, she saw Max enthusiastically wave ahead of her, the red-head making her presence known. The brunette resumed walking, heading towards her friend.  

“Are you still up for the huge clearance sale they’re doing at most of the clothing stores in Starcourt?” Max said, “You promised me you wouldn’t back out last minute.”

Max ad badgered her about said clearance sale since the beginning of this week. Eleven didn’t say no; she couldn’t say no to bargains.

“When was it again?” Eleven replied.

“It starts tomorrow, and it lasts for the whole day.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go,” Eleven said, “See? I didn’t change my mind.”

Max could only give her a teasing roll of the eyes.

\-----

 

Their long shopping ventures came to end when the two girls decided they were done for the day, large shopping bags hanging on either of their forearms. To them, it was money well spent. The flashy and generously sized shopping mall decorated with neon lights became smaller as they walked further from the premises.

“And that’s when all my fun comes to a screeching halt,” Max said, when they stopped at the sidewalk in front of one of the many stores of the shopping center, “I have to start my weekend cram for all my geometry homework…and that test I have coming up.”

“Sucks to be you, Max,” Eleven grinned, earning a fake laugh from the other, “This is why I keep telling you to do your work ahead of time.”

The redhead pressed her lips together, expecting Eleven’s typical scolding upon her when it came to schoolwork.

“You and I both know that’s never happening. Not all of us love math as much as you do,” Max retorted, “I swear I’m going to die when I have to go through Algebra II next year…”

_Algebra II._

**_Algebra II._ **

Eleven froze, her mouth suddenly falling open.

Her eyes went round and her hands shook beside her.

“Oh…no…nononono…”

Max arched an eyebrow, confused at Eleven’s petrified face and almost hushed voice. Her hands were suddenly clenched in front of her chest. The brunette looked like she had just saw a wild animal run loose.

“What? What’s wrong?” She was genuinely concerned.

“I-” Her throat tightened, she was too shocked to utter another word.

 _Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This can’t be happening._ The realization came crashing in. Eleven suddenly grabbed Max’s wrist, causing the redhead to look at her as if she had gone completely bonkers. Eleven glanced at the time on the hand watch wrapped around her friend’s arm. Her heartbeat soared when she saw that it was 5:26.

Her breath hitched.

She was supposed to meet Mike today…at 4:00.

She was supposed to meet him at 4:00, and it was nearly 5:30.

“I-I have to go! I’ll call you later!” Eleven blurted out.

She suddenly made a run for it, completely confusing Max.

“El!” She could hear her friend’s distant voice, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t have enough time to explain anything. What she had to do was to get to 2nd street as fast as she could, on the slim chance Mike might be there.

As she kept a quick speed with her shopping bags still in hand, second thoughts began to arise. What if he had given up waiting for her and left? No one in their right mind would wait out in such cold weather for almost two hours. But something in her compelled her to double-check…just in case.

_I’m such an idiot._

She panted, the chilly fall air emerging out of each breath.

Luckily, 2nd street was a close enough distance since the road was within the Downtown vicinity of Hawkins.

She could see the street, yards ahead of her. This was it. It was all a question of whether he was waiting at the intersection or not. If he wasn’t and he decided to head home, she would come to school on Monday to an understandably upset Mike…and if he was…well…

…she’d still have a lot of explaining to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oml it’s been like a year since I updated this…I don’t know what compelled me to come back, but I had such a bad case of writers block that all my ideas for this story weren’t coming through. But now I’m back...and hopefully for good this time.
> 
> FUN FACT: The song at the beginning is Every little bit by Jackie James and Ian Curnow and it was actually in Stranger Things (Episode 1 of Season 1 when Steve knocks on Nancy’s bedroom and Nancy lets him in)


	12. Sweaters and Scarves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Another chapter finished! And it's based on one of my favorite (if not my most favorite) scenes from BOF, HYD, etc. I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Eleven stopped in her tracks when she saw Mike seated on a bench.

He was at the exact same street they were supposed to meet in, an hour and 30 minutes ago.

The boy had his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his head low and his eyes downturned. He kept his stare on his lap as he remained oblivious of his surroundings. He sat still, his body not shivering – he _had_ to be freezing. The dark Refugitive jacket he wore didn’t seem like it provided adequate protection against the 35 degree weather.

Eleven was unable to blink, her eyes round. She was shocked, utterly shocked that Mike managed to wait this long for her.

The girl momentarily held her breath then stuffed her cold hands into her pockets. She slowly made her way towards the sitting boy, her steps slow and calculated. As she was getting closer and closer to an unaware Mike, she quickly felt the forthcoming guilt envelop her.

She stopped the moment she was inches away from his sitting form.

Seeing a pair of worn out Chuck Taylors right in front of him, Mike lifted his head. Eleven nervously clenched and unclenched her hidden hands – when she saw Mike’s fixed gaze on her.

His eyes were wide and unblinking and his face was pale, paler than usual.  His nose and the area around it was a tinted red as if he were sniffing every few seconds. Eleven quickly looked beside the ill-looking boy and found his bike parked within a nearby bike rack.

“I’m–”

Before Eleven could get a word out, Mike stood up, quickly causing the other to halt her speech from his sudden movement. Much to her surprise, she couldn’t tell if Mike was angry at her. He certainly wasn’t happy at all, though, his downcast expression was clear enough for her to guess how he was feeling at the moment.

“What happened?” He asked, trying his hardest not to let his frustration get to him. Maybe she had a good reason as to why she came so late.

Eleven briefly glanced down at her shoes before looking Mike in the eye.

“Max invited me to shop with her at the mall and we got so caught up in everything that I lost track of time,” She said, not shying away from the truth. She bit the side of her lip, realizing how awful that explanation sounded when she saw Mike’s current state.

“So basically you forgot,” Mike said, his frustration returning, “I waited here for almost two hours…in near freezing weather too.”

Eleven’s eyebrows dipped as she bit her lip; that was one thing that befuddled her. Most people would be quick to leave the premises after waiting for a good thirty minutes, especially since it was so cold outside. She briefly wondered what he was thinking; staying outside in such harsh weather was undeniably unsafe. He would easily catch something.

“You didn’t have to do that,” She finally said, an uncharacteristic bout of irritation arising in her. Maybe it was irrational of her, but the guilt she was feeling made her almost…angry. It was as if she didn’t want to feel at fault, “You didn’t let me get a word in before you left after class.”

“…I guess you also forgot the time you said you were free,” Mike said, his irritation now matching hers.

“No, I didn’t! I never said I would meet you here. You left before I could say anything,” Eleven reiterated, her voice raised.

It was as if they were back to square one, their conversations instantly escalating into a fight. Much to her own surprise, Eleven didn’t expect her encounter with him to head in that direction. She didn’t want it to, but she was so used to it being this way. The concept of getting along with Mike and resolving their issues on a good note was so foreign to her. Her stubbornness on that whole matter only amplified that.

“Well, you decided to come, didn’t you?”

Eleven’s lips were parted, her mind at a blank state. Much to her dismay, she couldn’t come up with any response. Mike raised his eyebrows, almost mockingly, waiting for her to say something. The brunette looked away from him, her lips pursed in annoyance. She hated that very familiar smug tone he would use; it was one that reminded her of those tumultuous first few weeks of school with him.

“Besides, I was just about to leave, right before you came. Luckily, I didn’t,” Mike said, “Heck, I’m the one who should be angry. I can barely move my hands and my nose feels like it’s going to fall off–”

“There’s a recreation building just across the street,” Eleven suddenly interrupted.

She paused, trying to muster up her next words.

“Oh?”

She gritted her teeth, annoyed he didn’t let her gather her thoughts to finish what she wanted to say.

“On the second floor they sell hot drinks,” Eleven continued, after calming down. She placed her hands back into her pockets, her nervousness and embarrassment quickly coming back, “I…I can go get us some.”

“Okay,” He finally said, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. The other looked on at him, confused at his very brief answer.

Though, she didn’t question it since she motioned him to follow her.

 

\-----

 

Once they were inside, Eleven pressed the up button beside one of the elevators. She glanced around, taking note of the lack of people that were inside around this time. She was glad at that realization…they wouldn’t have to wait forever to order.

She looked straight ahead, waiting for the elevator door to slide open. From the corner of her sight, she could see Mike tightly cross his arms, trying to ease his near shivering form. It was strangely silent between the two after their little spat earlier. It wasn’t that Eleven didn’t feel bad for forgetting about Mike; she did. She had a lot of guilt for being so careless – she just didn’t want to acknowledge it yet. Right now she was too preoccupied with their current goal, getting inside that elevator so they could enter the convenience store she had in mind and get something warm to drink.  

Mike followed her inside once the doors slid open. He watched her press the second floor button before they watched the doors slowly close.

As the elevator ascended, he kept his periphery on her, watching the girl shift the shopping bags she carried on either of her arms. Her head was down, so he couldn’t fully see her face. Her lashes were downturned and she was tightlipped.

Mistaking her silence for anger, Mike was confused and a little pissed off. Once again, he asked this to himself: why was she the one being angry? Yes, he might have communicated this to her poorly, but she heard him loud and clear since she was here with him right now. He was the one who waited for an hour and 30 in the cold, so he quickly assumed that if anyone should be angry, it should be him.

Mike snapped out of his reverie when he could hear a vacant but repetitive creaking sound.

He immediately looked in the direction of Eleven; the girl had a perplexed look to her, her face twisting into one of confusion. Within seconds, the lights that lit up the elevator cart blinked.

“…What’s going on?” She quietly said, her eyes glued onto the vaguely blinking ceiling lights.

When Mike was about to say something, they both heard a loud, slamming noise. Eleven fearfully backed away from the door, nearing herself next to Mike. The cart suddenly came to a stop.

The two were silent and unmoving, their stares drifting from the lights that momentarily blinked to each other. Eleven kept her stare on him, panic arising in her features, Mike gave her the same perplexed look – he was just as puzzled. The brunette took a few steps towards the door and pushed the ‘alarm’ button.

She bit her lip at the silence that followed, her heart was racing at this point.

She pressed it again.

Nothing.

She felt Mike’s eyes on her.  

Eleven repeatedly pressed at the button, jabbing at it with her index finger in a speedy fashion. There was no way the emergency button wasn’t working.

She felt Mike gently push her arm away from the button. Eleven frowned, confused at his sudden action.

“You’re going to break it.”

“But–”

“We’ll probably get help soon anyways,” He interrupted a much frustrated Eleven, “Someone’s going to have to notice something’s up with the elevator sooner or later.”

She sighed, backing up from the buttons and leaning against the back wall. She hoped that wouldn’t take too long. She had to start on that blasted project. Adding on her list of concerns, she was sure Hopper would be home early today and be worried half to death if she ended up coming home late.

 

\-----

 

Eleven pulled her sleeve up, glancing at her wrist watch for what seemed to be like the 50th time in the two hours they were trapped in the elevator. _Two hours._ She had sat down, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her eyes were focused on a torn sheet of paper between her hands she ripped from one of the paper shopping bags she had with her. Her fidgeting form was repeatedly folding the brown paper into a smaller and smaller square.

She stole a glance at Mike who sat at the opposite end of the small elevator cart, his eyes occasionally drifting to the ceiling. She had no idea what he was thinking of at the moment, but she was pretty sure he was just as worried and anxious as she was – even if he didn’t show it.

They had barely talked since the elevator broke down. It was expected since they were probably too preoccupied with the fact that they’ve been stuck inside this small space for a good couple of hours.

Eleven was just about ready to go insane.

The culminating unease and worry she felt was a far cry from the aggravation she initially had from this whole ordeal. At this point, she wasn’t even concerned about her Algebra project, she wanted to go home – home to her warm living room, curled up in thick bedsheets as she watched one of her cheesy soap operas. It would be a wonderful contrast to the freezing and claustrophobic space they were enclosed in.

Assuming Hopper came home at the time he said he would, she could imagine him conducting a special search in the next few hours for his “missing” daughter. _She was going to go insane._ She let out a frustrated huff and suddenly jerked her head back. Because of her swift action, she momentarily forgot about the wall behind her and accidently slammed the back of her head against it.

Eleven pressed her teeth against her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut, trying her damned hardest not to shout out expletives from the shooting pain she felt from the impact.

“Ow…” She squeaked out, quiet enough for Mike not to hear.

Mike looked up at ceiling again, his eyes returning to the center ceiling tile surrounded by the others that had lights installed into them. He cleared his throat, gathering up his thoughts.

“El?”

Mike recalled – according to Will, she preferred to be called by “El”. Initially, he thought it would feel weird referring to her by the nickname, but strangely, it came out naturally. Besides, he knew she had a strong dislike for being referred to as “Jane”.

“What is it?” She quickly responded, her hand pressed against the back of her head. Mike raised his eyebrows at her scrunched up face and watery eyes; she looked like she was about to collapse.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” She lied, her face was suddenly blank and her voice was clearer. She lowered her hand to the nape of her neck.

Mike briefly gave her an unconvinced look. Eleven blinked, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.

“I need you to push through the top of the elevator.”

She furrowed her brows, looking at the boy as if he had gone crazy.

“What?” She said in a disbelieved voice, “Why?”

Mike gave her a ‘why not?’ look.

“To see if we can get to the second floor through the elevator shaft.”

She fervently shook her head.

“No, there’s no way I’m doing that.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how much longer I can take being stuck here,” He replied.

Eleven lowered her knees; she shared those exact same sentiments. There was a lingering desperation behind her, as well as the persistent worry over whether a mechanic would come repair the elevator any time soon or not. Plus, it was admittedly uncomfortable being stuck in an elevator with Mike Wheeler of all people. Luck never seemed to be on her side.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” She shrugged her shoulders up in defeat, breaking the long silence.

 

\-----

 

Mike crouched down, waiting for the shorter girl to climb on top of him. The brunette stifled an exasperated sigh. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She reluctantly went on Mike’s back, letting out a quiet yelp when he suddenly hoisted her up.

“Don’t drop me!” She exclaimed, her face pale. Thanks to Mike’s tall stature, she made sure to keep her head bowed so she wouldn’t smack her head against the low ceiling.

“I won’t,” Mike replied, in a calmer voice. He tightened his hold on her, “Just trust me, okay?”

…

“Okay.”

Her hands were shaking when she extended her hands towards the center square of the ceiling. Eleven nervously pushed against it, trying to break it off. When she realize it wasn’t budging, she pressed against it a bit harder.

“Can you get it to open?” Mike called from below.

“Hold on, I think I almost got it.”

Eleven bit the side of her lip, feeling the tile creak against her hands. She pushed once again; it broke off.

“I-I got it!” She exclaimed, her nervousness still present. She pushed it sideways, opening the ceiling of the elevator to the shaft.

“Good– That’s good,” She heard Mike say, in a relieved voice.

She slightly ducked before poking her head through the opening. The brunette’s eyes widened when she saw the actual elevator shaft, thick cables and wiring surrounding the dimly lit area. She didn’t notice anything too out of the ordinary nor did she see anything that indicated an opening of some sorts. That was expected as she didn’t know a thing about the inner mechanics of elevators.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to do this anymore.

“I don’t see any opening to the next floor…it’s just a bunch of thick wires.”

“Nothing?”

“No!” She called back, her frustration arising, “Even if I did, it’s probably too high up. How would we get to it exactly? We should just do what we did before and wait for someone to come.”

“It’s been two hours since we got stuck. What if they don’t end up coming until tomorrow morning?”

“If they don’t come until tomorrow, fine. I’m not going to end up doing something funny that causes the both of us to di– Mike! Mike! Mike! I’m going to fall!”

Eleven yelped, feeling herself lose balance on Mike’s hold. She suddenly ducked her head out of the shaft room and felt herself tipping forwards from her swift movement.

“El!” He shouted, seeing the girl fall off of his shoulders. Before she could land straight on the floor, he immediately extended his arms and caught her, causing the both of them to fall down together – him from the sudden weight placed on his arms.

Mike grimaced from the loud thud they landed with; his hands were incredibly sore, one being cushioned behind Eleven’s head and pressed against the cold floor. But while his face was pale from the shock of what happened seconds ago, Eleven’s face was beat red. Her bright brown eyes were wide and her lips opened. Mike was half sprawled on top of her, one of his arms around her upper back and the other around her waist – his hand preventing her head from colliding with the ground.

They stared at each other, their faces inches away from each other. Neither of them uttered a single word.

It felt like minutes before Mike realized the rather awkward position he had on her. His face reddened and he quickly untangled his limbs before getting himself off. He looked away from Eleven while the girl remained lying down, her face still in shock from a mixture of falling down and their near-straddling position right after they fell.

Mike cleared his throat. He didn’t want the silence to go on for too long.

“Are you hurt?”

He briefly glanced at the corner of his sight, seeing Eleven get herself up.

“F-fine. I’m fine.”

There was another long pause.

“I’m such an idiot,” He sighed, face planting against the palm of his hand. He shook his head at the ridiculousness of their entire predicament.

“Then I guess we’re both idiots,” Eleven shrugged, she heard his hushed voice, “You for thinking we could actually somehow climb our way to the second floor and me for going along with your dumb plan.”

Mike let out a puff of air through his nose, his lips tugging into a quick smile.

They retreated back into their original positions. Another 45 minutes passed, a very slow 45 minutes – all silence except for occasional sniffles and coughs from Mike. The coldness of the elevator was becoming more apparent. Eleven looked at the boy. He was seated with his back was against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His head was lowered, but Eleven could see his drooped eyelids and paler-than-usual skin.

“Mike?”

He was hardly responsive. He instead brought the palm of his hand up to his forehead, slowly rubbing his temples. His lips were tight and he could barely register her calling his name in her soft voice. With his unawareness at an all-time high, he dropped his hand back down to his side.

His sickness was persistent, he just never said anything about it – to Elevens surprise. He just went silent. What mattered at this very moment, was that he looked very unwell.

Eleven removed herself from her previous position and crawled over to Mike.

“Hey, Mike.”

She shook his shoulder.

“…Was it always this cold in here?” He managed to mumble. Fortunately, Eleven could hear him. His voice was very weak and quiet.

She immediately reached over to one of her shopping bags and pulled it towards them. She fished inside and hectically shuffled through the different articles of clothing she brought from her shopping haul. Sweaters, scarves, and a coat – anything thick enough to keep warm.

“Can you put this on?” She asked, one of the scarves in hand.

No response.

She brought her hands upwards, stopping for a moment when she had them close to him. She awkwardly kept them up mid-air, her fingers trembling. She bit her lip, she felt strange for putting her hands on him, as she was nowhere near acquainted in “physical contact” territory with Mike.

Eleven went on ahead and slightly pushed Mike towards her as an attempt to make wrapping the scarf around him easier. She instantly flinched when she felt Mike tip towards her from her sudden push, his head landing on her shoulder. _Fuck._  

She quickly brought her hands up, shock present in her features.

“M-Mike you’re on me,” She stammered. She swore she could feel her whole body heat up when she saw his forehead resting on his shoulder, strands of his dark hair tickling her neck.

She shook him again, but to no avail, he remained unresponsive. Eleven slightly pushed him off, keeping a firm hold on him as she wrapped a few scarves on him.

She pulled out few more sweaters from the bag and laid them out on the floor. She looked back towards Mike and swallowed, a bout of edginess coming forth. The girl carefully placed his body on the floor before putting a few sweaters over top of him.

 

\------

 

Eleven remained seated at the far corner of the elevator, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. When she absently huddled her knees closer, a thick sweater sprawled over herself slightly slipped off. She immediately pulled it back over her shoulders, her hand momentarily getting exposed to the frigid temperature of the elevator room.

An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of any help. Since then, she had noticed the rapidly declining temperature of the room, her coat alone not helping shield her from that. She quickly assumed the people running the building closed business for the day and turned off the entire heating system. Eleven huddled closer into her large sweater, if that was possible.

She looked ahead.

Across from her, Mike was on his back – him covered under numerous amounts of sweaters and a couple of scarves. Another sweater cushioned his head from the floor of the elevator. Being cocooned under all of the articles of clothing, Mike wasn’t nearly as pale as before. But he still didn’t look well as he occasionally would cough or sniff his nose, but it was an improvement from last hour, so whatever Eleven did…worked.

“Do you feel better?” She broke the silence.

Mike faced her with a slight turn of his head.

“I still feel like crap…but yeah, I guess,” He replied, his voice clear.

The visibly cold girl sunk further into her sweater, the collar reaching her nose.

“How much of these did you buy anyways?” He asked, an amused smile forming on his face. He gestured to the sweaters, slightly pulling at one that was sprawled on top of him.

“A lot,” She replied, “There was a huge clearance sale at nearly all the clothing stores at Starcourt – JCPenny, The Gap, Sears…a lot of them.”

With that said, she could feel her guilt resurge. She would never forget the fact that she made Mike wait in such cold weather for an upwards of two hours, just because she got carried away at a clearance sale. That escalating into Mike becoming incredibly sick to the point of him almost passing out compounded that guilt. She hated herself for easily miscalculating like that, especially when she herself hated when people were late on her. She hated herself for making such a huge mistake; she would never live it down – even if it was towards Mike Wheeler.

When the girl was about to open her mouth to provide an apology, Mike spoke up.

“…My dad’s going to kill me.”

His voice was very quiet, as if he didn’t intend for Eleven to hear him. But she did, she heard him clearly. His brown eyes were unblinking and glued onto the ceiling of the elevator stall. He strangely looked like he was in some sort of trance, a thousand thoughts going through his mind at once.

The brunette opened her lips to speak, but quickly closed them. She’d rather choose her words wisely. She momentarily thought about the man with the glasses she saw back at the party, the guy she presumed to be Mike’s father. She never forgot the unfriendly and taciturn vibe that the man gave, even if it wasn’t specifically directed at her and most likely towards Mike. It still made her so uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t your fault you got stuck here so I don’t see why he should get mad at you,” The girl shrugged, her shoulders moving up under the comfortable sweater fabric.

Mike let out an amused puff of air through his nose, but he quickly returned to a blank face. Eleven gave him a questioned look, confused at his sudden but brief urge to…laugh?

“That’s just who he is,” The boy replied, his tone intending he wanted to keep his explanation brief. He quickly changed the subject, “What about yours? Is he conducting some sort of police chief-savvy investigation on your sudden disappearance?”

Eleven briefly shook her head at his stupid joke; she couldn’t bring herself to smile.

“Pretty sure he’s starting a search party cause I should have been home hours ago,” Eleven sighed, her initial stress not leaving her. She sunk her head down, placing her fingers in her hair, “He probably tried asking Max where I was…and she doesn’t even know where I am. I can’t imagine how worried sick he must be right now...”

Mike felt the sadness and desperation in her voice. Another thing he noticed was that her voice became weaker at her last sentence, like she was trying her hardest not to cry. For a second, he thought she was worried about the police chief not being able to find her, rather than her own safety.

The girl placed her head on top of her knees and stared straight ahead at the doors of the elevator. God, how she wished the elevator could start moving again so the doors could open up and then they’d be scot-free.

“You did say one of those maintenance men would have to come fix this elevator sooner or later,” Mike said.

“Yes,” Eleven replied, her voice weak.

“Then that’s what will happen. Maybe tomorrow morning or even in a few minutes we’ll start moving. Before you know it, you’ll be reunited with your father again.”

Eleven let out a soft laugh. Mike reassuring her like this was the least of her expectations, especially since he was the one who initially came up with the desperate plan to get out. She stole another peek at Mike, partially thankful the boy was keeping his stare glued onto the hole they left on the ceiling that they broke through. She didn’t want him to catch her staring for whatever reason.

“Mike?” She spoke up, making sure not to look at the other.

She bit her lip, hoping to god she wasn’t being too prodding with what she was about to say next. The curiosity that loomed over her throughout the week after the party was enough for her to want to ask. Plus, it was freezing. She needed something to take her mind off the frigid temperature of the elevator cart they were in.

“What is it?” He answered, his tone attentive.

“What’s your family like?” Eleven blurted out.

The instant regret of asking that immediately came.

“What’s with the sudden curiosity of my home life?”

“Well, with your father being a senator and all, and you guys being well off because of that, I was just curious since it’s obviously a lot different from the life I live– I-I mean you don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable–”

“El,” Mike stopped her.

“What?” She said, her light brown eyes prominent. She was clearly afraid she might have overstepped a few boundaries.

“I didn’t know you rambled. I thought you were cooler than that.”

“Shut up,” Her face flushed, annoyed at his flippant answer. She shot the grinning boy a brief glare before looking away.

However, her glare dissipated when she realized the word that Mike described her as.

Cool? Why on earth would he think of her as ‘cool’, let alone admit it out loud to her? What got to her was that he said it with no hesitation whatsoever. Eleven quickly dismissed those thoughts.

“We’re not as perfect as people make us out to be.”

His words quickly caught her attention.

“People here actually say that?” Eleven probed. She knew that Mike’s family was well respected around Hawkins, but she never would have guessed it reached to the point of sycophantic praises like that.

“They imply it, all the time. It starts to become nauseating when you keep hearing those same words over and over again,” Mike replied, “That’s basically what the receptions I go to involve. People coming up to my father and telling us how incredible he is and how he raised such an ‘incredible’ son.”

Eleven kept her stare on the floor.

“…And that’s far from the truth, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mike replied, “My Dad…there’s never a moment where his life isn’t stressful these days. He’s always away and busy and he has a lot of pressure put on him so it’s easy for him to get frustrated at the smallest of things. He is a senator running a busy campaign, after all.”

“He also has the image of the ‘outstanding politician and citizen’ he has to keep so most of that pressure is placed on me– the family, as a whole,” He continued, slightly fumbling over his words, “If I don’t take after him or aim higher then it doesn’t look good on him…or on us, rather.”

Eleven thought back to the day where he had his suit ruined because of a reception he had to attend. She knew there was no excuse for his behavior, but it began to make sense as to why he was frustrated, more so than any average person would be in that situation.

She also took note of how he unknowingly switched from referring to his ‘family’ to ‘himself’ when it came to who faced the hugest burden, but brushed that off. She didn’t want to think too much of it.

“That’s ridiculous,” The brunette muttered, but loud enough for Mike to hear.

“I guess so,” He softly replied, mulling over her brief statement, before eventually moving his shoulder’s upwards in a shrug of some sorts. He continued, his voice louder, “At times it seems that way to me, but he’s gone through a lot to get to where he is today. So, sometimes, I understand where he’s coming from. There’s no way I want to add to the stress he’s under by disappointing him too often.”

She opened her mouth, urgently wanting to argue against his words. It was as if deep-down Mike wanted to let out a lengthy tirade against his father’s actions, but something in him – his allegiance to his father’s wishes, wouldn’t let him do that. Instead, Eleven kept quiet, not wanting to possibly stir the pot.

“What? No more questions?” He said, trying to fill in the quick silence.

“I don’t want to get into your personal business too much. It’s just–” She stopped, causing Mike to look her straight in the eye with a slight turn of his head. The cold, icy expression his father had from the party last week once again interrupted her thoughts, before she continued, “Don’t– don’t beat yourself up too much over what he says.”

She couldn’t believe she was saying those words to him. The Mike Wheeler she thought paraded himself with a stride of arrogance around the school halls, was the last person she thought would need any reassurance like that.

“You’ll surprise him one day.”

Mike averted his eyes away from the girl once he felt his face heat up. Her of all people saying those words to him, really took him aback.

“Really?” He said, trying to make his voice sound unconvinced.  

“Yes,” Eleven nodded, “He’ll take back whatever negative things he says to you.”

“I hope so,” He plainly said. He knew that was just wistful thinking, but he didn’t want to argue against her words, in case she would become any more concerned.

With that came another lengthy silence between them. That prompted Eleven to huddle in closer to the sweaters she piled up on herself. She leant sideways against the wall, almost grimacing as it felt ice-cold to the touch. She closed her eyes, attempting to get some shut-eye since she…or rather they knew…that the maintenance wasn’t going to come until the morning. 

Uncomfortable. She felt so uncomfortable. 

The girl opened her eyes and quickly pulled up another scarf from her shopping bag to use as a pillow. She bundled it up and cushioned it between her head and the wall before pulling the articles of clothing, or rather “bedsheets” over herself.

Mike could only look on, with the slightest bit of amusement. A smile creeped up on his face, however brief it was. It quickly dissipated, in case Eleven would catch him smiling.

Not satisfied with this position at all, she decided to sleep on the floor next to Mike. Eleven lied down, facing away from the other and making sure to keep as much personal space between them. She kept still like this for a good fifteen minutes, in absolute silence.

She curled up into a fetal position and kept her arms situated beside her head. She was absolutely restless, but she couldn’t blame herself. The low temperature, the unfamiliar spot she was in, the anxiety of being stuck in an elevator for hours, and how worried sick Hopper was at this point kept her from falling asleep.

None of this would have happened if she came on time, or so she thought.

“Mike? Are you still awake?”

“What’s wrong?”

Eleven almost cursed herself, forgetting to control her sudden onslaught of emotions.

“Nothing,” She lied, before quickly retracting that statement, “I–I mean, I forgot to apologize.”

“For what?”

The brunette, still facing away from the other, squeezed her eyes shut.

“For forgetting,” She continued, “And making you wait outside for so long.”

“Oh, y-yeah,” He said, dumbfounded he didn’t realize what she was talking about initially, “I think we both screwed up though. We didn’t exactly communicate this whole thing well…and, like you said, I didn’t let you get a word in.”

Eleven let out quiet laugh, hopeful that Mike didn’t hear. She recalled the moment he stormed off into the hallway after he promptly told her to meet him at 2nd street. She recalled his unusually nervous demeanor when he approached her; she wondered why he was so anxious that day.

“Either way, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” He replied, promptly accepting her genuine apology, “We can put this whole thing behind us…after I get over my cold.”

“Okay,” She said, her lips tugging into a smile. She reshaped her ‘scarf pillow’ before proceeding to rest her head over top of it.

“’Night, El,” Mike said, after a short silence.

“Goodnight, Mike,” She responded, her voice soft.

 

\-----

 

Eleven’s eyelids stirred for a moment. She could feel herself waking up, but the newfound warmth she felt was enough to keep her from fully opening her eyes. Completely forgetting the dilemma she was in, she didn’t want to move away from her current position, let alone “wake up”. She absently snuggled closer to her source of heat, shutting her eyes further.

Unfortunately for her, a creaking noise put an end to her comfort.

Her eyes opened, only for her to see dark – the dark fabric of a Refugitive jacket.

Her complexion immediately turned a rosy pink when she noticed her body was literally pressed against Mike’s.

Her head was neatly tucked under his chin with his arm laying over top of her side. Elevens eyes were unblinking. The articles of clothing they used as a source of warmth continue to lay on top of them.

That was when she let out a hitched breath before frantically pushing herself away from Mike. 

Her lips were parted when she saw two men in carpenter workwear, standing at the now opened entrance of the elevator. She quickly sat up, seeing Mike begin to wake up as well from the corner of her sight.

“Date-night is over, kids. You can get out now,” One of them said, looking on at a beat-red Eleven and a much confused Mike.

 …How she was going to explain this to everyone, was going to be an arduous task on its own.

 

 

 


End file.
